


Coffee

by daredeer



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, kaijou, puppyshipping - Freeform, slight paternal abuse mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredeer/pseuds/daredeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey's in a rush for his final year of high school to be over, but that doesn't mean he's not finding the time to notice the changes in those around him. He spends more time thinking about his friends than planning his future, and Kaiba wouldn't have it any other way. Eventual KaiJou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Not bothering to cover his mouth, Joey yawned widely, a rasping groan echoing from just beyond his wisdom teeth. His eyes blossomed fresh tears under the strain, and a passing commuter gave him a narrow glare for his 'indecency'. Joey returned a watery scowl. He'd had to wake up at some torturous hour in order to fit in a shift of his job before school started. The job was only recently offered to him, and he still wasn't used to the early start. At least during summer he'd been able to finish his shift mid morning and then go crash on his bed to catch up on those precious z's, but August's belated heatwave had supplied him with an extra dose of lethargy to sleep the days away, and then he had a week, four days, one day... and suddenly it was the start of a new term.

He got to school with forty-five minutes before the bell would ring and plodded through the silent corridors aimlessly, not wanting to submit to homeroom but having nowhere else to go. He passed his old physics teacher in her office frenziedly stabbing at a laptop, but apart from that Joey didn't see another soul. The childishly decorated wall displays mocked him with their loudness. Instead of stale sweat masked by body spray, Joey could smell the dry, cheap carpet beneath his feet, the faint sting of bleach hitting his nostrils as he passed the toilets. It was weird. Joey almost felt like he shouldn't be there. Yet, never one to not take advantage of a situation, he indulged in a mental action post-apocalyptic rpg, fighting off a couple of radioactive gremlins with his schoolbag where no one could see him. After a few minutes, he then stopped by the drinks machine and tried to surreptitiously coax out a free soda. The machine didn't budge an inch, so he stepped into the nearest classroom and wrote a bunch of curse words all over the blackboard.

Glancing at the classroom's clock, he saw he'd only wasted fifteen minutes since he'd got there. Yugi'd be arriving soon. The kid always got to school early – not out of commitment to his studies, but because he got so many requests for duels from classmates that he had to cram one or two in before the bell. Idiots thinking they could beat him, take the title 'King of Games'. And Yugi's politeness would never let him say no, though Joey suspected these days there was a bit of pride there too, the confidence of rising to a challenge. Definitely the Pharaoh's influence.

Joey's eyes glazed as he absent-mindedly wandered towards his homeroom, still pondering over his friend. The little punk had been kinda... downcast for a while after the Pharaoh left. And no one blamed him – they'd had a pretty close bond, after all. He spent a lot of time with Ryou, and then a lot of time by himself. It took a while for Joey to get him to crack a grin again. Though even now, months later, Yugi was less excitable... more reserved. More mature. He didn't play Duel Monsters with the same type of vivacity as he used to. Maybe the mediocre duelists bored him. Maybe the card game was losing interest for him. Perhaps they were all just getting too old for games. This was their final year of high school, after all.

Joey entered his homeroom and slunk to his usual desk, aiming to get a few moments of shut-eye before the inevitable interruption of the outside world. He folded his arms on the desk and used them as a pillow for his head, inhaling the sticky remnants of spray paint still stubbornly glued to his fingertips. The only drawback to his new job. Sighing, he tried to clear his mind but kept coming back to images of homework planners, teachers' names in big letters on blackboards, Téa and her 'cute' note-taking gel pens all arranged in a rainbow on the desk beside him in Maths... 'One year. That's all. One more year.'

The classroom door closed with a soft click. Precise footsteps.

'They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, Wheeler.'

A chair's legs rustled on the carpet, one desk across and three up from him. Joey kept his eyes closed and his nose buried in blue polyester sleeves. 'They say that refusing to call people by their first names is in the first sign of douchebaggery, _Seto_.'

'It's more polite, and more formal.'

'Maybe in the nineteenth century, yeah.'

'So the Mutt has been listening in History class, after all.'

'You know what? Just go back to my last name.' Joey cracked open one eye. Kaiba was drinking from a large takeaway coffee cup, nonchalant as ever. He put down the cup, cocked his head backwards and caught Joey looking. They kept up the stare for around thirty seconds before, surprisingly, it was Kaiba who slipped into a sideways smile.

Joey grinned, rising from his seat and punching the air. 'I win! Damn, what's that, a run of about two hundred staring matches?'

Kaiba made a 'hmph' sound, reaching for his laptop in his bag. 'Dumb luck.'

'Keep tellin' yourself that, moneybags. Speakin' of which, is there any chance I could get a preview of that new simulator you've been promoting all summer?'

'The release date is in November. Wait, like everyone else.'

With a pout worthy of rivalling Ryou's puppy-eyes, Joey crept round to be level with Kaiba's desk. Some time after Atem's departure, the millionaire must have deemed their group to be finally worthy of his time, and over the past year, Kaiba had relaxed a little around them. Stopped acting so much like he had a three foot pole up his ass. The arrogance still crept back in at times, but Joey had been pleasantly surprised by this softer version of Kaiba, the one only Mokuba had ever seen. Yugi had been especially happy at the lanky bastard finally accepting his friendship, and very smug when Kaiba had eventually started to return it through sarcastic quips and millisecond smiles. Yugi had only grown a couple more inches over the past year, so they made a hell of a picture when walking together, with those dyed hair spikes barely reaching Kaiba's elbow – but who cared, right? Joey was just happy there was no more terrifying Egyptian voodoo in their lives any more.

Drawing closer to Kaiba's desk, Joey noticed a second coffee cup, the swirly lettering on the side suggesting some little dusky-lit, family-owned gourmet affair in the nice side of town. Of course. But surely no one needed that much caffeine. 'You up late last night or somethin'? Adding any last minute details to a new simulator that you'd definitely let a trusted friend do one last beta test on before you release it?'

Kaiba gave him the side eye.

Joey smirked, but decided to let it go. He still wasn't so sure about Kaiba – the guy had shown he could still flip like a switch into prick-mode whenever he felt like it, once going off at him for repeatedly stealing bits of his lunch as they all sprawled out on the grass last Spring. It wasn't as if Joey was giving him special treatment – he nicked parts of everyone's lunches, and it had become less of a deliberate wind-up and more of an accepted occurrence over the years with Tristan and him often winding up splitting what they had between them, and Téa not bothering to even tut at him any more. Joey wouldn't have guessed Kaiba would be the type to get possessive about his food, considering how skinny he was. Though he guessed it had more to do with him intruding on The Seto Kaiba Personal Spaceᵀᴹ . Even now, Joey sat perched on the edge of the desk next to Kaiba's, his cautiousness hidden underneath the carefree confidence he'd been carrying around with him ever since middle school. It irked him that Kaiba had the upper hand over him in this way since their pact of non-violence, but he tried not to dwell on it. After all, that pact had developed into begrudging civilities, then silent assessment of each other, then over time it had evolved into this: shallow teasing, not able to let go of past conflict but still treading the line. But it was preferable to being instantly riled up whenever he saw that haughty face. And besides, he was too tired for a fight.

'Cover your mouth when you yawn,' Kaiba said, interrupting Joey's thoughts. 'It's like being with Mokuba. Actually, no; he's much more polite in his mannerisms.'

Joey ignored this, having found himself hypnotised by Kaiba's hands tapping at his keyboard while he typed. They were like big, pale spiders. He'd always tended to end up watching Kaiba's hands, especially during a duel. They were as slender as the rest of him, and seemingly double jointed, judging by the contortions of his fingers. The sound of typing was oddly soothing too. Kaiba always seemed to have perfect nails. Not like his own, which were bitten ragged and constantly ingrained with dirt. Joey wondered if he booked himself manicures- no, he probably had his secretary do it for him. Nah. It was probably just the orderliness attained by never touching anything but books and modern technology. A rich kid's hands.

Kaiba paused to rest his wrists, to rub away the primary twinges of repetitive strain injury. He glanced at Joey. 'You look like you haven't slept in a week.'

Joey's head snapped up from his reverie. 'That's the threat of school for ya.' He sighed. 'Just one more year though, and then I'm outta here.'

'Have you got any plans?'

Strangely flattered by this unexpected show of interest in him, Joey's mouth started working before his brain did. 'Nah, not really. Try and pass more exams than I fail and then... well, Tristan and Yugi and me are talkin' about sharing an apartment, but... well I got a job, but...'

Joey pressed his lips together, feeling a trifle awkward about revealing his lack of forward thinking to someone so organised. He tried to displace the attention. 'S'alright for you, having basically the rest of your life laid out for you and your own job as stable as you make it.'

It was fifty/fifty over whether Kaiba would antagonise him for making estimations about him – he still was six feet of gleaming pride, no matter their relationship.

Kaiba took a sip of coffee and looked at Joey squarely. After a moment and with typical insight, he said, 'I doubt you'd find that situation very reassuring. Your whole life already printed before you live it. If someone else were in my position, they might feel rather constrained.'

Joey rolled his eyes. 'I'd still rather have it like that.'

Kaiba raised an eyebrow fractionally, then turned back to his laptop screen. 'Take the other coffee, Mutt. You look like you need it more than I do.'

'Huh. Thanks.' Joey accepted, taking the cup by the cardboard sleeve and mentally 'tsk'-ing at the hidden insult. He removed the lid and inhaled the warm steam. Black. Of course. He blew on the surface and took a sip. His tastebuds cringed, scalded by the heat and the bitterness. 'Damn. No sugar!' he exclaimed with disgust.

Then Joey remembered who'd given him the drink without asking a fair trade for it (yet), and his long term memory flashed up the mental image of Kaiba's hand slapping his own as he reached out for another piece of ripe fruit wilting beneath the sun in a KaibaCorp brand plastic box...

Grinning sheepishly, Joey continued, 'But I'll be in detention by eleven for sleeping in class without it, so-' He took another sip and tried not to outwardly grimace. Maybe he'd go see if the lunch ladies'd give him a dash of milk. He'd been on good terms with them all since he'd got his first job and started buying twice as much lunch as everyone else every day with his earnings, with a consequence of making the ladies' own wages increase on account of no wasted food. Well, he was a growing boy (no he wasn't; he was a young man with no confirmed dinner at home, taking advantage of the cheap school prices).

Right on cue, the door opened and Yugi stepped through the doorway. 'Good morning Joey, Kaiba!'

Joey rose from his perch as Kaiba responded with a warm, yet overly-formal, 'Hello Yugi, how are you?'. Yugi simultaneously replied to both the textbook greeting and Joey's fist bump, but Joey didn't know much of the events after that because he was catching the door before it closed and heading swiftly to the school kitchens, coffee in hand, before a teacher caught him with food/drink in the corridors. Heaven forbid. The mighty Seto Kaiba might be able to bypass that rule, but not him.

*****

The rest of the day passed like all others had before it: a crushing whirlwind of new textbooks, overly-aspirational teachers, and freshmen clogging the hallways with their backpacks. Joey's final class was American Literature, which he had the delight of sharing with Kaiba - a not-so-sarcastic comment since they'd been on friendlier terms because if Joey played his cards right, he could get the guy to print out an extra copy of meticulously organised notes for him. It wasn't like Joey didn't understand Am Lit. Some of the books were crap, yeah, but he'd always found it interesting to think about a character, try to figure out what made them the way they were. In fact, he actually paid more attention to the teacher now that he wasn't seething over Kaiba's presence in the same room as him. Joey just preferred talking. Writing all those damn essays, having all the ideas in his head but having to waste time forming them into eloquent sentences. By the time he'd written a paragraph he'd forgotten what he'd been thinking to write next.

The end of day bell signaled freedom soon enough and students started immediately shoving their things back in their bags. Joey lingered, waiting for Tristan to meet him so they could go grab a successfully-survived-first-day victory burger. Kaiba was also still present even after the teacher had skedaddled, because he was annoyingly pretentious about making sure his notes were filed properly and his laptop secure.

Tristan's head appeared around the edge of the door frame. 'Yo, you coming?'

'Yeah, just a sec'.'

As he hoisted his bag on his shoulder, Kaiba spoke. 'If you drop by my office tomorrow afternoon, there might be a simulation preview demo in it for you.'

Joey half wanted to reply by asking what the world was coming to if Seto Kaiba was offering two unexpected acts of kindness in one day, but instead he simply grinned and said 'Cheers, Kaiba,', and continued on his merry way out of school and into the fading summer air, wondering what had inspired this almost Scrooge-worthy alteration in Kaiba's generosity.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost as if Mother Nature was compensating for the dizzying heatwave back in August, there was barely a week of transitional chilly rain before Winter skidded onto the scene around mid-October. Joey had mistakenly fallen asleep with his window open just an inch, a lukewarm breeze drifting through just enough to cut through the stuffiness of his room; he woke to a gale-force blast whistling through the gap and paralysing all parts of his body uncovered by bedsheets. It was mid-morning before he managed to unfreeze his face. The clear skies of Fall meant that the morning frosts melted quickly, but it was an unusual sight to see the trees on the cusp of reddening their leaves procured into stasis by the chilling air. The most amusing sight for Joey was to see people's confusion outwardly displayed by their mismatches of tshirts and scarves, bare legs and thick wool coats. Some of the girls at school would stand shivering in their knee socks - 'refusing to acknowledge the weather,' admitted one girl when he'd asked, mildly concerned and hunched up into his own jacket as they stood to attention in a fire drill. Ironically, he wished he'd had a cigarette to warm his fingers. But he'd quit that when he quit the gang.

The overnight downpours had a nasty habit of turning sidewalks into icy slaloms, making Joey risk his chances on the roads instead. There was little traffic at that time, but the inky blackness had already begun to creep into the early mornings, and alas! Joey owned no reflective stickers, because he wasn't seven years old. There had already been salt grit scattered in patches all over the tarmac, though the ice would have melted by mid-morning anyway (but hey, why should the city be prepared for when the real cold weather came? Ridiculous notion.).

It was 'the earliest onset of cold weather they'd seen in twenty years', according to the earlier weatherman, his jaunty necktie far too bright for the 7am breakfast news. Joey had been watching the tv screen's bright subtitles through the window of the greasy cafe he was working on. Some prick had sprayed their tag on the glass – using cheap graffiti paint; and not even an imaginative design, just the typical zig-zag scribble – and Joey was getting paid six ninety-five an hour to clean it off. In the cold sunrise of the morning, with his plastic box of alcohols and solvents by his feet, chin tucked into his chest so that his collar shielded his face from the wind. He'd get a commission from the shop owner too, but Joey could think of better ways of earning a wage. He didn't have much of a choice though. He'd quit his last job back in the spring because his supervisor was a total asshole, but had been stumped at finding another until he ended up in the civil township building. Joey was lucky no one recognised him – but then again, he'd always tried to stay in the background of the gang. Out of sight, out of mind, less likely to be headhunted. But anyways, he'd ended up being offered paid community service from the council – cleaning up graffiti in the poorer areas of the city. It was ironic, really.

And, unwilling though he was to wake up at five-thirty every morning and stand shivering, scrubbing away with numb fingers in holey gloves, Joey had to admit he'd seen some pretty beautiful sunrises. The sky that morning was dappled indigo and violet, textured by foreboding grey clouds. It reminded him of Yugi, for some reason.

Joey hummed absent-mindedly as he worked at a particularly stubborn, gluey bit of paint. The solvents turned the spray paint sticky as it came off, and so he constantly had flecks of magenta and cyan and acidic yellow dotting his hands that refused to budge unless he used lemon juice, which stung like a bitch at the raw edges of his fingernails. Joey didn't really mind the bright polka dots on his fingers – it was kinda cool, and picking them off occupied his interest in boring classes – he just didn't want his Dad to see. Who knew what conclusions that fucker would jump to. And he wouldn't be too happy about Joey not sharing his wages from his secret job, either.

It was very icy that morning, and Yugi and Téa turned up in matching hats and gloves, leaving Joey to wonder if Téa had bought them back when they were dating (probably) and how the hell the little punk managed to cram all his hair beneath a bobble hat (further research was needed). After the Pharaoh left, Yugi hadn't really spoken to any of them, but it was Téa who'd been the most hurt by this. She'd insisted that Yugi had always talked to her about his troubles, and he must be terribly upset to not even come to her about it. After weeks of fretting, she'd finally cornered Yugi by ringing up the Game Shop late at night, and apparently the lack of face-to-face presence made it easier for them both to get their feelings out. And after that, they drifted back together, closer than before. Like they had something they agreed on. It was inevitable that Yugi'd ask her out, but what was surprising was that she'd actually said yes. Secretly, and shamefully, Joey often thought that a contributing factor in this may have been Yugi's sudden growth spurt, the way he'd filled out in his shoulders, the way he'd taken to wearing his jacket like a cape in the hot breezes of early summer.

They'd lasted about three months together before returning to merely a close friendship. One Saturday in the arcade, Yugi had confessed to him that after all those years of crushing on Téa, actually being physical with her had been awkward and repulsive. It had been like kissing his sister – not at all interesting for him, he'd explained, setting his jaw as he mashed the buttons of the latest Tekken game. Leaning against the machine with folded arms, Joey had watched him hesitantly, seeing fear and hurt in those usually trusting eyes. As the machine announced 'K.O... YOU WIN', Joey grinned, grabbing Yugi round the shoulders and telling him it was no big deal, you never know how things are gonna turn out, there would be plenty more willing to date him so long as he kept dressing like an S&M's wet dream. The little punk had flushed red and started reprimanding Joey's language use within the earshot of younger kids, but he'd been smiling.

Students poured out of their classrooms and into the food hall, the buzz of chatter pierced now and again by the squeak of rubber soles on polished floors. Seeing Duke and Yugi waving at him from a table, Joey mooched along in the queue, grabbed a grilled cheese and a cold salad, wheedled a free pot of ketchup from lunch lady Cath who was ringing up the prices, then went to join them. He would have gotten a hot drink too, but the damn machine's display was sardonically flashing 'OUT OF ORDER' at him. He'd try again at the end of the day; it'd be nice to have something to walk home with, to protect him from the chill.

Just as he was about to take a bite of his sandwich, Tristan dropped down onto the seat next to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder, making Joey's teeth slam shut on empty air. The resulting shockwave juddered through his skull and made his ears ring, and he had to grip the edge of the table for a few seconds before he felt capable of yelling at his friend. But after one look at the guy, Joey switched track immediately. 'You okay, man?'

Tristan glanced at him sideways, but didn't raise his head from his folded arms. In his peripheral vision, Joey saw Kaiba approach their end of the steadily-filling table, only to falter and take a seat at the other side next to Yugi instead. The guy wasn't good with people in distress, and it showed - but then again, Joey was no expert either. He needed Téa for this, but she was at her aerobics club.

Luckily, he didn't have to do much. Tristan sat straight again and pulled a can of coke from his bag, unpopping the tab as if it had caused him a personal offence. After a long drink, he said without emotion, 'My bike's wrecked.'

Joey assumed a look of shocked sympathy, even through a mouthful of lettuce. He swallowed hastily, but Duke cut in before him, leaning across the table to ask, 'What happened? Was it some other bastard?'

Tristan seemed a little affronted that Duke had been eavesdropping, but he hadn't exactly been whispering – and Ryou and Yugi were chatting happily away to Joey's right, with Kaiba sat on the edge of the group silently brooding as always, so there was no harm of anyone else hearing.

'Skidded on the ice. Scratched someone's fancy car parked by the sidewalk. And they're probably going to sue me. I mean, never mind that I nearly broke my knees, huh?' Tristan spat, but his expression was more deadbeat than vehement.

Joey wasn't going to be the one to say it – and judging by his hunched shoulders, Tristan knew it anyway – but in all truth the situation seemed like it was all the motorcyclist's fault. Still sucked, though. He frowned. 'How bad's the bike?'

'Pretty fucked up. It's in the garage, but I haven't asked them to start work on it yet. Don't know when I'll be able to pay. My parents' aren't going to help me out with this one, but all I've got elsewhere is my savings...' Tristan dragged his hands through his hair, messing it up out of its quiff. He sighed. 'I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. I'm probably expecting a letter from my insurance any day this week.'

Sandwich forgotten, Joey exchanged a look with Duke. They both started talking at once, offering their help, their finances, but one glare from Tristan shot them both down at once. 'I'm not accepting your help, so don't bother. It's my problem; I have to deal with it. Somehow. Fuck knows.'

Joey had rarely seen Tristan this down. It was more horrible, somehow, to see him absolutely depressed rather than the usual fiery anger. He'd become so invested in his bike over the past year, monitoring and cleaning it up regularly, and speeding off most weekends on long rides around the outskirts of the city, where the open, quiet country roads were just made for leaving a trail of dust behind you. He'd regularly dragged Joey along to shows all through the summer, though he didn't mind really – he liked the stunts, the riders throwing themselves skyward, flipping, dangling from the handlebars... the roar of the crowd was deafening, and the ice-cold cans were in abundance; and it got him out of the dingy, stifling flat, away from the debts and the worries and the constant urge to do a bunk.

Though in a way, it did make him wonder. What was he, Joey, interested in? Tristan had his bikes, Duke had his own game and the shop, Yugi still loved all sorts of games and puzzles – and recently, a surge of interest in Egyptian archaeology, though that was no surprise. Even Ryou was drawn towards the occult, enjoying mystical horror games and dabbling in spells... Joey personally couldn't see the appeal, but so long as the kid didn't manifest into any psychotic tomb robbers, he was good. But what were his own hobbies? There was Duel Monsters, once, but that was no big deal. Everyone duelled back then. Joey liked role-playing games, though not with the same kind of zeal as Yugi. He liked lewd videos, but that was hardly a hobby. For the past couple years, Joey had had two areas of focus: graduating, and saving money... but it seemed almost as if he'd let himself become defined by them. Everyone else was growing and expanding up and out, blooming, working to make their talents and dreams into realities – and he'd been sat stewing in a counting house, struggling to fill out the 'skills' section of a career prospects form.

Under a heavy hailstorm the next morning, Joey trudged to the civil township building to sign in and see where his next allocation would be. He nodded in greeting to the young woman at the front desk, who smiled coyly back at him. He'd been silently flirting with her every time she was on duty, and he marched through the hallways to his manager's office with a grin and a glow of optimism. It was short lived, however, as Joey was then offered an insincere apology and an explanation that he was being let go due to the weather making his job impossible. This seemed a flawed excuse, and Joey argued as such. He appealed to work in some other area of the council until the Winter passed. He was at first asked, and then told to leave. As he left, the woman at the front desk withered under his glare.

The sun was just beginning to rise and chinks of a blood-red sky were just visible through the dark clouds. Joey descended the few first stairs of the building, then sank down to sit on the concrete, arms folded, head lowered, unminding of the hailstones relentlessly pounding at his skull and bouncing on the dull road. He closed his eyes. The swoosh of cars driving through glistening puddles and the smell of wet brakes filled his senses, and he allowed his fury to leak out of him. Breathing slowly, cold hands and a warm torso, white space behind his eyes, water trickling down his neck behind his collar. He'd get a new job. No big deal. He could use the 'impossible weather' to his advantage. He'd shovel snow, clean windows, even help chop down pine trees in preparation for the Christmas period, if he had to.

A car screeched lowly as it pulled up by the roadside in front of him. Joey raised his head, squinting at the intruders. A community police officer had his meaty hand on the shoulder of some brash punk with spiked hair and a black-eyed scowl, who was being steered past Joey into the council building. He looked a year or so younger than Joey, though as they passed, he gave Joey a smirk of solidarity and muttered, 'Got to you too, did they?'.

A spark lit the fuel in Joey's stomach and he leapt to his feet, hand half-raised in a fist, and if not for the presence of the officer who gave him a warning stare, he would have gladly battered the little shit for daring to assume they were on the same level. As it were, he froze, breathing heavily, vision hazy, realising he wasn't exactly living up to his own imposed role-model behaviour. The ice continued to pelt down around him, but Joey was aflame. He scowled at the intruders' retreating backs, jammed his hands into his pockets, and skipped school for the rest of the week.

He returned the next Monday, claiming a hacking cough had left him bedridden and refusing to meet any of his friends' eyes. Tristan was still down, but he'd gone to the garage where his bike was being held and asked if he could offer his work services instead of payment for repairs. The answer had been inconclusive, but they'd said the branch Manager would be in touch with a final answer; throughout the single lunch hour, Tristan must have checked his phone fifty times. Joey held out hope for him, but knew the guy would be still low-key worrying about insurance claims and possible sues.

In last period, American Lit, he arrived at the classroom to find a coffee cup designed with swirly lettering waiting on his usual desk. It was steaming through the tiny hole in the lid. Kaiba, who occupied the desk next door, was mechanically setting out his laptop, files, and pens in orderly right angles. A matching cup sat by his pointy elbow.

Joey's shoulders relaxed so far his bag nearly slid from his shoulder. After the past few days he'd suffered, the familiarity of this simple act - this bewildering display of unwarranted generosity – was entirely welcome. Once upon a time, he would have been suspicious of poison. Sitting down at his desk, he forced himself to dig out his pen and notepad from the recesses of his rucksack before removing the lid of the cup and bringing it to his mouth. He inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut, then drank. The coffee was a good temperature, warming his chest like spirals of liquid gold as it slipped smoothly into his stomach. Cream had been added this time, judging by the rich dairy taste. Joey exhaled lazily. The velvety drink managed to be a relaxant and a pick-me-up all at once, particularly in contrast to the gale-force winds outside. Joey set the cup back on his desk and replaced the lid to conserve its heat, conscious of a steely gaze watching him. Kaiba was waiting for acknowledgement.

Joey turned to him and drew breath to speak- just as their teacher arrived, slamming the door behind her and demanding a quick silence to settle over her students. Yet with his coffee in hand, seated at the back of the room where the teacher wouldn't see his hidden sips, Joey felt like he could stare down a pissy Literature teacher, brave the tree-wrenching winds on the walk home, scribble down his homework with his mightiest effort, set his sights straight and return to school the next day with the determination he'd lost in that hailstorm.

With their teacher's booming voice setting out the period objectives, Joey had to settle for reaching over to tap the edge of Kaiba's desk with his fingers in order to get his attention. Kaiba's eyes flickered sideways; his head turned maybe half an inch. Used to this mask of cold indifference, Joey didn't let it phase him. He grinned, then made the recognisable 'a-ok!' sign with his hand, touching the pads of his thumb and forefinger together to form a circle. Kaiba made his typical 'hmph' sound under his breath - halfway between a hum and a grunt, the lowest form of recognition possible – but his eyes softened, and Joey knew he was saying 'You're welcome'.

A week later, Joey woke up early though there was no need to anymore, and got to school with half an hour to spare. It was eerily quiet again, taking him back to that first day of the semester – though this time, he was wrapped up in a thick winter jacket, faded on the cuffs and shoulders and slowly loosening at the seams. The central heating must have only just been activated because the school building was empty and cold, and when he pushed open the door of homeroom he saw Kaiba sat typing away, a finely-knitted blue scarf looped around his pale neck and his long coat not yet removed. Joey grinned, hidden behind his turned-up collar. 'Hi.'

'Hello.'

Their terse greeting was nothing new, but was a huge development from the winter previous. Joey strolled to his desk, hoisted up his rucksack and delved into it to reveal two plastic shot glasses. He'd kept them after Tristan's last birthday as a memento, and they'd lingered, sticky, in his top drawer at home for months until now. He set them on his desk, freshly washed and shining under the long bars of classroom lighting. Slipping a hand into his inner jacket pocket, he fumbled for a tarnished steel hip flask, the smooth metal slipping against his gloves and almost clanging to the floor. This he had borrowed from the cupboard under the sink; the contents within were stolen from the uncapped bottle stood next to the TV. Joey poured out two measures with a small smile on his face, humming and bobbing to a song stuck in his head.

He replaced the flask in his bag, screwed tight and shoved under his books, then took a breath and sauntered over to Kaiba's desk, shot glasses in hand. There was a slight tap as he placed one next to Kaiba's laptop, which whirred suddenly, almost in response to this unanticipated action.

'Poisoning me, Wheeler? The woman's weapon, as thought by many.'

After three years, Joey had become almost deaf to Kaiba's thinly veiled insults, and most of the time indulged in their banter without thinking. 'If I wanted to poison you, don'tcha think I'd make sure I was put in your will first?' Joey smirked. 'It's just somethin' to warm you up.'

He held out his own for Kaiba to see. Pale fingers ceased their erratic movements on the keyboard, and Kaiba picked up the shot glass between thumb and finger and studied it intensely. He sniffed it. 'Whisky?'

'Cheers.' Joey brought his own to his mouth and allowed a trickle to brush his lips and slip past onto his tongue. It burned, drying the back of his throat like edible fire. He was never going to be a big drinker, but he had an affinity for whisky, rare though it was. The colour was liquid gold. Passing into his stomach, the alcohol immediately burst into a warm glow and Joey exhaled slowly, basking in it.

Kaiba watched him, then with no deliberation quickly tipped the glass to his lips and knocked back the liquid. The movement was too fast for Joey to warn him, though he doubted he would have done. The effect was instantaneous: Kaiba replaced the little plastic cup to the desk and swallowed once, twice, his jaw clenched. He coughed.

Joey bit back a smile. 'It's not that kinda drink. You gotta savour it.'

Kaiba cleared his throat, then turned back to his laptop. 'Thank you,' he said, sounding a little raspier than usual.

Draining the last dregs of his own measure, Joey licked his lips and replied, 'No problem,' before shoving both shot glasses into his jacket pocket to remove the evidence.

It was almost a blessing when Thanksgiving drew near. Joey's teachers had been working his nose to the grindstone with their threats of final exams, and he'd already started to stay late a few nights each week working in the library, which stayed open until 7pm for seniors. He'd never done it before, and was surprised at how peaceful it could be. Yugi joined him sometimes, having decided to apply to study Archaeology and possessing a similar determination for good grades as Joey. Yugi had joked around once or twice whilst reading through History textbooks, saying it would have been nice for the Pharaoh to still be hanging around so he could question him about Ancient Egypt and obtain more credible facts for his essays and papers. Joey had nodded along, saying that he'd ask him if the guy knew anything about Pre-calc too, but he hadn't missed the way Yugi's hand twitched towards the center of his chest while they'd been laughing.

Yugi's Grandpa invited the whole lot of them over for Thanksgiving, a gesture that Joey suspected he might regret once he realised how many friends Yugi would insist on attending. So he showed up on the day three hours earlier than the given time, donned an apron and set to work helping in the kitchen. In the corner of his mind, he knew it was a substitute for him not having the means to bring a dish of his own to add to the table, but Joey pushed that thought down and buried it along with the rest, and concentrated on mashing the potatoes. A short while after him, Téa arrived bearing a dish of sweet potatoes, yet also demanded to help with the preparations. She and Yugi cleared up and set out the table together, and Joey saw Grandpa smiling once or twice at their laughing and chatter to be heard above the clinking of cutlery.

'I'm so proud of him,' the old man said quietly, whether to himself or not Joey couldn't tell.

He replied anyway, turning on the tap to wash his hands so his speech could be mistaken if need be. 'Yeah. Me too.'

Snow would have made the scene more picturesque, but it was still the brutal ice and frost that covered the ground. Luckily, the Game Shop was within walking distance for all their friends, so the conditions were not a problem. By one-thirty, they were all seated, waiting for Grandpa to bring out the turkey and listening to Duke and Yugi battle it out over whose shop had seen the oddest and most unexpected customers. Tristan was actually keeping a tally. Joey had pumpkin pie at his left elbow, green beans to his right, and a stomach rumbling like an engine. He was warm, and he didn't have to go home for another four or five hours.

The doorbell sounded, and Yugi jumped out of his seat excitedly. 'I'll get it, Grandpa!' he called, then disappeared. Joey strained his ears over the sound of Duke now teasing Ryou, but didn't get a clue to who the visitor might be until Kaiba's lanky frame folded itself into the room. Yugi followed, beaming. All eyes flickered towards them and the chatter momentarily became still.

It wasn't like any of them were opposed to Kaiba being there – after all, he sat with them most days at school, even if he did tend to sit always on the edge, and seemed to have a limited number of conversation tokens that were used up weekly. It was just weird to see Kaiba in Yugi's house, in such an informal setting, dressed in a white button-down shirt and dark jeans, clutching a bottle of apple cider. But Joey had seen worse.

'I think you lose on the customer battle, Duke!' he grinned, and the silence was broken. Amid the reawakened conversation, Kaiba had taken the empty seat across from Joey at the far end of the table. Then Yugi's Grandpa had re-appeared, his face hidden behind an enormous turkey, and dishes had been passed around, and glasses had been refilled. And thanks had been given: thanks for friends and family, thanks for health, thanks for the guys at the motorcycle garage allowing work instead of cash payment, thanks for booming business, thanks for little brothers.

Joey coughed a little nervously, aware of many pairs of eyes fixed upon him. 'I give thanks for... for my sister, who's currently on vacation with Mom, the lucky girl... and thanks for... all this food! Wow!' He grinned, earning a few chuckles and a fond shake of the head from Téa. '-and thanks for all you guys. My friends. You're the guys givin' me the motivation for finals! I don't know what I'd do without any of ya.'

Joey couldn't help the heat in his cheeks as he finished, and he wondered if any of his friends' happy faces knew how true his last statement really was. He glanced around the table, watching everyone pick up their glasses for a toast. When he got to Kaiba sitting across from him, the guy was fixing him with an intense, unfaltering stare, and it gave him the feeling that Kaiba knew exactly how honestly Joey had just spoken.


	3. Chapter 3

'Téa, what did you get? Question four?' Joey tapped the rubber end of his pencil against his lips, speaking quietly for fear of rousing the insipid wrath of their librarian. Seated next to him, Téa seemed to rouse from a kind of trance before leaning across to look at his work. Joey glanced at her graph paper, which was filled with smiling curves nestled contentedly on the _x_ and _y_ axes. His own sketchy renderings didn't look so happy.

'You forgot to differentiate, that's all. Here, see?'

'What? Oh... shit, yeah.'

With a sigh, Joey drew a line through his work to start again just underneath. He could think of better ways to spend his Wednesday afternoon than being metaphorically clipped around the head with a Pre-Calc textbook, but at least with Téa's presence he felt like he couldn't give up after ten minutes like when he studied alone. He couldn't afford to, not with finals week less than five days away.

'Pretty sure I'm gonna fail this one,' Joey murmured, half to himself while he re-penned the numbers. 'Doesn't matter though. There's no job on Earth that would ever need me to do this-'

A briefcase appeared on their desk with a slight tap. Under the pretence of rearranging his workspace, Joey subtly shifted his graph paper so that his earlier incorrect attempts slid beneath his textbook, out of sight. He kept his head down and his chin resting in his palm, but he saw Téa in his peripheral vision moving her bag off the four-person table so there was more room, for which Kaiba gave her a curt nod and sat down opposite. True to form, he pulled out a touchscreen computer and began tapping away silently on the virtual keyboard. His fingers were still as rapid, but the absence of familiar clacking sounds made the guy seemed even more inhuman than usual with his stiff posture and complete absence of any bodily noises. He'd always reminded Joey of a marble statue, with his pale skin and fixed expression. And expressively flamboyant poses.

His attempts at Math forgotten, Joey frowned at the nib of his pen. Kaiba never studied with them. The clever bastard probably didn't even need to study at all. Joey knew from their similar class schedules that the CEO usually headed straight to his office in the city when he had a free period. However when he snuck a peek at the guy's tablet screen, lying flat on the table, Joey recognised the KC logo in the top corner. Huh. So he was working, not studying. But why was he still here?

A soft thump of a dead leaf hitting the window from outside caught Joey's attention. He looked up through the glass, watching a first year come narrowly close to cracking his head on the ice as the buffeting wind pulled him over. Joey grimaced. He wouldn't particularly want to go outside right now if he could help it, either. And in such strong winds, Kaiba's parachute-like coat tails would probably cause him to become a low flying hazard. Joey bit his lip to suppress a grin at the mental image, his cheeks colouring a little from the strain of holding in a laugh.

Later, amid the hoards of students buttoning up and steeling themselves for the eyelash-freezing gales outside, they stopped by Téa's locker so she could pick up her dance gear. Joey was arranging his two pairs of worn gloves on his fingers, masterfully tugging the wool so that the holes in each were covered by the other pair. 'Wouldn't it be great if the weather got so bad this weekend they had to shut for finals week?'

Téa finished entering her combination lock and sighed. 'You know they only close down for snow, and it's too cold for that. Plus, I don't think you'd want to stay on during Winter break to do your exams, would you?'

She laughed at the look of immense terror Joey gave her, then handed him a colourful flyer she'd retrieved from her locker. 'Will you help me put these up around school tomorrow?'

'Sure,' said Joey, reading the sparkly script. 'Hey, you're gonna be in a ballet? That's awesome!'

'Mm hmm! The Nutcracker. It's only an amateur production, for charity, but...' She tried to downplay the role, but her eyes were shining and Joey could tell she was proud. 'I'm Clara, so I've got to practise a lot.'

'That's really amazing!' exclaimed Joey with a wide smile, pulling her into a quick hug. 'I'll definitely come see you dance. I'll have to dig out my very best suit 'n' tie, huh?'

'Too right you will!' She joked, poking him in the chest. 'I want to see all my boys there! See who you can persuade to come along, okay?'

Joey offered a mock salute. 'Yes Ma'am! Yugi'll wanna go, for sure-'

'Who knows, maybe you'll be able to bring Mr Seto Kaiba along,' said Téa, giving him a quick sideways look full of unspoken things Joey couldn't quite decipher.

He rolled his eyes. 'Pshh. You kidding? As if President Kaiba would lower himself to that level without gaining something from it.' Joey shook his head. His fringe fell into his face a little, and he fell quiet, and decided to read through the rest of the flyer. This was interrupted by Téa a few moments later gently tugging it from his fingers to replace in her locker.

Joey exhaled, and put on an earnest face. 'Anyway, you want me to walk you to your studio?'

Téa raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'You just get home and work on those polynomials, okay? I'm not going to have you flunk and see all my time wasted that I spent helping you.'

Joey stuck out his tongue at her before departing.

Finals week passed in a blur so mystifying that Joey felt as though he had skipped five days of his life, yet also that each day had lasted an eternity. He spent the aeons between exams functioning by way of complete autopilot, his mind spewing equations and dates and technical jargon all tumbling together like in a laundry machine. His brain rarely left him to sleep peacefully either: multiple times he woke startled upon dreaming an exam had already begun, he was late, he'd be disqualified, he couldn't find a pencil, he'd forgotten everything... he was watching his friends toast each others' success as he stood shivering in the blizzard outside and scoured graffiti from the windows, he was snatching Yugi's college acceptance letter from his small hands and tearing it in half in front of him, gleeful at the destitute look in those wet purple eyes which hardened into crimson slits as the shadows grew...

Joey had jerked awake with the taste of bile in his throat which refused to subside; a curdling mixture of guilt and determination. His exam that day occurred in the predictable fashion, with Kaiba had finishing writing after only half the allotted time had passed, and Joey at last remembering to differentiate before submitting his final answer. Which, he supposed, was progress.

After a wild(ish) Friday night celebrating the end of finals, which culminated at Yugi's house for midnight mac 'n' cheese, Joey wanted nothing more than to sleep through the whole of Saturday. It would have been a safe bet, since his father often used his Saturdays to the same effect. But in all the panic and frustration of the past few months, and the draining effort of masking it all, Christmas had crept up on Joey without him even realising it.

Saturday morning beheld a clear cold sky. Due perhaps to some feat of omnipotent coincidence - which Joey would attribute to fallacy – there had finally been snowfall overnight, pure and crisp beneath his feet. Joey had risen early in order to arrive at Domino mall just as the doors opened, and so in the rising dawn most of the snow was still untouched. It had cleansed his whole world in white. Some may have thought it sterile or even dangerous, he mused as he walked, passing beneath an icicle-laden, picture perfect pine tree. The kind of white that was cold, sharp, lethal. It made you wanna jump into the snow and roll around, let it cover you up and fortify you in tiny ice crystals, soak into your skin and strengthen you to the core. But it was fleeting. In another hour the sidewalks would be scattered with uninspiring grey slush, which would be then assaulted by acid-orange grit. The cold would melt out of your life again without a trace, and then all you'd be able to do is wait for another glimpse of it. You had to appreciate the snow while it was still within your reach.

Joey raised his eyebrows at himself. He'd never known he was such a secret poet.

He spent the morning browsing the mall and by noon, he'd been jingle bell'd enough to plough any eloquent and lyrical monologues right out of his head. Sure, he loved Christmas as much as the next teenager refusing to let go of their childhood magic, but even as he sat quietly sipping a coke in the food court, he could still hear carols playing ominously in the distance. They seemed echoey and distant, muffled slightly by the buzz of chatter, and scraping of chairs and plastic silverware. The chain coffee shop he was seated in was cozy, with bare-brick walls and Italian lexicon, and seemed to attract a presupposed type of customer. Surrounded by stylish married couples and teenagers with minimalist laptop screens, Joey picked at a dried stain on the denim of his thigh as he waited.

He'd already ordered Serenity's drink, of course. She was partial to a flavoured coffee concoction which seemed almost to contain no coffee beans whatsoever, by the sugary smell of it. Yet as she arrived in a flurry of soft wool scarf, kissed his cheek, then sat down and took a grateful gulp of her drink, Joey smiled. At least his sister knew what she liked.

It had been before summer since they'd last spoken face to face, and Joey was mildly shocked to notice how Serenity's face had changed subtly, losing the childish roundness of her cheeks and developing a deep flicker of experience in those beautiful grey eyes. He wondered how he looked to her, but he didn't have to wonder for an extended amount of time.

'Joey, you look tired. Are you okay?'

He adopted an expression of deep offence before lapsing back into a smile. 'I'm fine! -s'just been finals week y'know? Don't you worry about me, sis. I'm great. You on the other hand, I am pleased to say, are lookin' very well. Tell me all the good stuff. How's school?'

Serenity gave him a fond smile as her hands reached out for her cup. 'Good! Good. I think I'm getting closer to an idea of what I want to study at college, maybe.'

'What?'

'I'm thinking biomedicine.' She took a drink and set the cup back down on the polished wood table. 'Maybe go into micro-surgery? I'm not sure yet. I know I want to do something with biology and medicine. It's my best subject right now, and I really enjoy it!'

Her eyes met Joey's and he saw the shine in them, saw the glimmer of hope and the request for acceptance. He grinned warmly.

'That's an awesome idea! You'd have first hand experience with your time in the medical service, huh sis?' Joey winked at her to show he was being genuine. 'But that's really great! I'm really proud of you!'

Serenity beamed. 'I've spoken to Mom about it a little bit, and she still thinks I need to think about other things before I make up my mind, but I really feel like this would be a good path for me in the future, maybe.'

Joey leaned back in his seat, rummaging in the many bags of Christmas presents on the floor beside him. 'This deserves cake! You still like gingerbread, right-?'

Too excited to wait for her answer, Joey slid a wrapped gingerbread star towards her across the table. 'I bought you this earlier! You always loved gingerbread at Christmas-'

When he'd stopped by the luxury chocolatier on the upper floor earlier, it had cost him more than he would have accredited to a palm sized piece of cake, iced with a border and a copperplate 'S' in the middle. But Joey had decided that this year, their final year officially together in High School, was worth breaking into his savings for to get some excellent gifts for his friends. Usually he could only afford to give candy canes or cookies, small edible offerings, but he had the means this year to finally give some well thought-out presents. He couldn't wait.

Serenity let out a peal of joy and threw her arms around him from across the table (Joey moved his coke just time). He hugged her back, revelling in her happiness, feeling the silk of her hair against his cheek. Damn, he missed her when they were apart. He knew she was safe, and they spoke on the phone regular enough, but it was nothing like seeing her in the flesh. He only hoped that if- when he moved out to share an apartment with Tristan and Yugi, his Mother would let him see his sister more often.

'Thank you!' said Serenity a little breathlessly as she regained her seat, already ripping into the gingerbread with the indulgent greed he remembered from when they were kids. 'This looks so good! Have some?'

Joey waved away the proffered piece. 'It's all yours, sis.' He took a long drink, settling back into the faux leather seat and listening to the faint, echoey Christmas carols still playing, which now had the added percussion of a toddler two tables away playing a game on their parent's touchscreen phone.

Serenity looked at the half-eaten cake, chewing thoughtfully.'This was a really cute design, with my initial on it... it would be nice to give to someone you were dating. Where did you buy it?'

'Top floor, next to-' Joey nearly spat out his coke. 'Hey, you don't already have a boyfriend, do ya? If they do you wrong they've got me, Joey Wheeler, to deal with! It's not Tristan behind my back again, is it? I swear to God-'

Serenity swatted his arm playfully. 'Stop grimacing, Joseph,' she said mock-pompously, still studying the gingerbread. 'I don't have a boyfriend, I just think it might be a nice little present to give someone you were dating.'

A pause. She glanced up at him. 'Do you have a girlfriend, or whatever?'

Joey laughed, swinging his fringe in front of his eyes. 'Pshhh. Nah. Who'd wanna date me? You keep coming out with questions like that and I'll start thinking I'm the smart one.'

'What about Yugi? Has he asked Téa out on a date yet?' she asked, a little muffled through a mouthful of cake, her hand held in front of her mouth.

Joey raised his eyebrows, twisting his mouth. 'Well-'

'And that other boy with the white hair, what was his name? Bakura? No, wait- oh gosh, what about Seto Kaiba? Is he still at school with you guys?'

'Kaiba? Hmph. Yeah. But he's okay now, he's... he's actually an okay guy.' Joey faltered under the disbelieving stare he was receiving. 'Honestly! He's nicer to everyone, even Yugi. Doesn't demand they duel every time they meet. I mean, he's not a total care bear now, but... Well, we don't even fight anymore! S'kinda cool not to be angry all the time when I see him... guess he grew up. Stopped being so much of a prick.'

Serenity furrowed her brow a little at his choice of noun, but persevered nonetheless. 'This is the same man who didn't want to land the blimp and get everyone to hospital?'

Joey closed his eyes at the memory of Battle City. 'Well, yeah, but... trust me, he's changed.'

Kaiba had changed enough to be on harmless banter terms with him, enough that their derogatory name-calling had subsided into teasing nicknames, enough that the guy would continue to spring smooth, creamy, warm coffees on him – the last one being after their AmLit exam the afternoon prior - and ask for nothing in return. Physically, Kaiba had not changed. He was still a tall, skinny guy with questionable fashion taste, a haughty countenance, and a certain (yet admittedly, now subdued) liking for dragons. But Joey had always believed in actions speaking louder than words. When his father wanted money, he would flatter Joey with the praises of the sun; when Joey came home late, his father would drag him by his hair to the wall and demand to know where he'd been before proceeding to 'knock the faggot out of him'.

When Kaiba had left his own scribbled-in-the-margins copy of Moby Dick behind in class one time, Joey had made to return it, but had noticed a slip of paper sticking out of the top which read, in Kaiba's effortlessly ostentatious handwriting, _'I know you skipped reading this. We have a test next week on the whale as a metaphor. Do not get dirty paw-prints on my book.'_.

Taking another sip of his drink, Joey closed his eyes momentarily and allowed the sweet, cloying taste to settle on his tastebuds before speaking. 'Actions speak louder than words, sis.'

Serenity crumpled up the wrapper of the gingerbread and gave Joey a thoughtful look over the rim of her cup.

Over the next week, Joey got roped in to helping Téa publicise her ballet event, and spent every break time pasting flyers and performing impromptu sales pitches upon passing students and teachers (Téa insisted this was the best use of his vocal skills). Not that he minded much. It was kinda nice to have something to do. After exams, and so close to Christmas, most of their teachers were willing to let them use their class time for 'personal study', or to simply go over and recap what they'd learnt that semester. Except for Pre-Calc, of course, as Mr Jameson-Lameson demanded that he continue studying over Christmas to drag his grade up in time for the Summer exams. There were three others submitted to the same fate as him, who all seemed to be in varying degrees of agony every time he entered the classroom. But if there was one thing Joey was, it was stubborn. He wanted to pass. And he was _gonna_ pass. And then he'd never have to look at a quadratic equation ever again, hopefully.

The other class which insisted on carrying on as usual was AmLit, as each student had to plan and give an oral presentation in January on a novel of their choice, which would count toward their grade. Joey was still deciding which book he was most likely to actually read over Christmas. Kaiba, of course, had read his novel, planned, and written up his presentation in the space of three days, and was therefore absent from all the lessons. Joey barely saw him all week; Kaiba seemed to be using his power to take early Christmas leave. The prick had their school wrapped around his little finger, just like every other minor establishment in the city. It was a good thing that Kaiba wasn't only looking to use his power and influence for evil, like a supervillain or something. Joey entertained this notion one lunchtime by drawing a caricature on the back of one of Téa's flyers. He drew Kaiba with an angry scowl, wearing a cape made from dollar bills and being punched by a superhero with messy blonde hair, labelled 'Jo-Man!'. Yugi, the other 'willing' assistant to Téa, had peeked over his shoulder and grinned as Joey explained the picture, then requested to be drawn in as another superhero. Joey complied, chuckling as he drew the lil' punk with a tall stance and wild hair, throwing Duel Monsters cards like shuriken at Kaiba-zilla. Yugi had laughed with glee, then requested to take the cartoon home to show his Grandfather. Joey observed the sentimentality with which Yugi slid the paper into his bag, and regretted labeling Yugi's character 'Millennium-Man!'.

Téa's advertising had given Joey an idea, and he stayed late at school one evening to design and print out a bunch of his own flyers. They showcased J. Wheeler as a neighbourhood dog-walker and snow-shoveller; two chores Joey hoped people would be willing to pay him to complete in the late December snowdrifts. He much preferred the snow to the ice. Every morning, he felt his mind fall still as he stared through his bedroom window out upon the replenished whiteness. It had the power to cover up the grimy, litter-filled street with a sheet of orderly blankness; the rusted streetlamps glowed dim orange against the full clouds, and he could pretend it was almost comforting.

They had planned to exchange presents on the last day of school, but to Joey's frustration, it was closed due to the weather. On the final day. It was ironic, really.

A flurry of texts saw everyone regroup in the 24/7 diner in the middle of the city, which was warm, packed full of teens, and offered seasonal mugs of thick hot chocolate adorned with whipped cream and dusted with cinnamon. Joey had suppress a pleasured moan as he took his first drink, which everyone would have laughed off a year or so before, but would have merely been awkward with Kaiba's folded arms opposite from him in the crowded booth. He didn't dwell on this, instead excitedly thrusting his presents at their various recipients and urging them to be opened.

Téa blew him a cheeky kiss in appreciation of the leg warmers in a soft peach wool he'd bought for her; for Tristan, he'd bought a 'girls and bikes' calendar, naturally; Yugi squeezed the life out of him in a quick hug before immediately pulling on the studded leather fingerless gloves, which made his hands look incredibly bulky along with the matching wristbands that Ryou had bought him, but the little punk seemed too happy to care. Joey had been expecting Duke to scorn his 'joke' gift, but instead the guy seemed in a good enough mood to drape the pink fluffy dice over his head, each one dangling behind his ears.

In the mall, after wandering around countless clothing stores and shuddering at the occult artifacts he found lurking in dusky magic shops, Joey had suddenly recounted a rare conversation between himself and Ryou. The guy seemed to be friends with no group in particular, alternatively hanging out with them and a couple of other cliques at school, and was more popular than ever with the girls, but for Halloween last year they'd all gotten together at the Game Shop to watch an abundance of scary movies. Sometime around 2am, Joey made a move towards the bathroom but had noticed everyone had drifted asleep. He was vaguely considering drawing on Tristan's face when Ryou had spoken, motioning to the girl on the tv screen, a vision with white hair.

'She looks like my sister did.'

Joey had never known about Ryou's letter-writing habits until that point, and his first reaction was that it was a little strange, but he'd sensed that the other boy wanted to talk. They'd sat on the floor, backs against the couch, and talked about their losses. Ryou's ran deeper than his, of course, but Joey was able to offer a little sympathy due to no longer having his sister and Mom around. He knew the guilt, the loneliness. Ryou had asked him if it was strange to find it therapeutic to write letters to dead people. Joey had neither confirmed or denied, just asserting that everyone had their own ways of coping. The guy had smiled behind his long hair, running his fingers along the carpet, and admitted that he never knew what to write anymore, now that nothing ever happened to him, now that no great evils were trying to destroy them. And he didn't think the tomb robber would be very interested in how his school grades were going.

With shopping bags hanging from every finger, Joey had eventually meandered into a fancy stationery store looking to buy something for Téa's Christmas present. There he'd happened upon a writing set of blank letters and envelopes, patterned with black stars and other symbols. And when Ryou tore the wrapping paper off his gift, he caught Joey's eye across the diner's gleaming table and smiled honestly before wrapping it back up, out of sight.

Trying to bite into one of the luxury candy canes Tristan had deposited in the middle of the now paper-covered table, Joey nearly broke his tooth when he heard Kaiba's low voice cut under the chatter with a quiet, 'Thank you'. Letting his gaze travel upwards, Joey saw Kaiba's pale fingers holding the travel coffee cup he'd bought for him, which was sleek black with a ring of silver near the lid. Simple, yet classy and sophisticated, and a damn sight better for the environment than the copious amount of cardboard cups Kaiba probably threw away every week. Blue eyes were trained on him, unwavering, open.

Joey removed the spearmint candy from between his lips and said, equally quietly, almost secretively, 'Hope ya like it.'

He was glad Kaiba had not looked inside the cup when he opened it, because otherwise he would have noticed the cellophane-wrapped gingerbread star nestled inside, iced with a border and emblazoned with a copperplate 'K'.

The snow had fallen thick and fast whilst they were in the diner, and so it was only logical that they take the rest of the afternoon to trek across to the wide-open park five blocks away to make the most of the snow day. At this announcement, Kaiba immediately took his phone from his pocket and called his driver to take him to his office. After a pause, he rang up with a clipped, 'I'll walk.'.

Amongst the conversation of everyone getting to their feet and retrieving coats and scarves, Joey jeered, 'Don't ya like the snow, moneybags? I'd have thought the ice cold matched your personality perfectly.'

'I've never liked cold weather. I prefer the warmth,' replied Kaiba, shuffling along the booth at the same time as Joey, before standing and pulling on his coat. He cast an eye over their still-chattering group, over Tristan and Duke smirking as they ogled the bikes and girls calendar together, over Téa trying not to giggle as Yugi tried on her earmuffs. His gaze flicked back to Joey as he picked up his new coffee cup. 'Tell them I've already paid.'

Joey glanced at the table littered in empty mugs and candy cane wrappers. The cost was nothing to a CEO. 'Alright. Cheers, man.'

'Oh, and Wheeler?'

'Yeah?'

Kaiba paused by the diner door to look back at him, then flipped his coat collar up dramatically and smirked, 'Don't eat yellow snow.'

Joey gave him the bird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Kai/Jou song rec: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQf5RsJYpHs :)


	4. Chapter 4

Joey's breath fled his chapped lips in short puffs. Neither the German Shepherd nor the Lab were particularly big dogs, but they were young and strong, and Joey got near-pulled off his feet if his pace was anything slower than brisk speedwalking. He once again congratulated himself on having the hindsight to schedule a separate walk for old Grandma Rosins' little Terrier. The poor thing would've needed jet skis to keep up with those two.

It was early afternoon on Christmas Eve, and the world seemed quieter than usual. The streets were slower, the sidewalks devoid of people. The sky was opaque white. The snow piled at the sides of the roads was stained yellow and grey. In between solitary cars passing by, Joey listened to the panting of the dogs beside him and the collective crunch of grit-salt beneath their steps. 

From the inner-city apartments where their owners lived, the dogs always took Joey on a quick march through the business district as the most direct route to the park in central. In his life he rarely needed to pass by the high rise office buildings, and always felt a little out of place as the steel and glass structures loomed oppressively. He'd once been Joey Wheeler, Battle City Finalist, wielder of the Claw of Hermos, best friend of the Game King... back when rivalries ran high, and he'd felt constantly bested by Kaiba and Yugi - though he tried not to mind the latter so much. Though they'd stayed in the spotlight, sure enough. Joey had faded into the background, regressed back into some kid trying to pass his final year and get the hell away from... what? His Dad? The rotting apartment? School? The image of a dark-eyed, bloody-nosed middle school punk with beat up Nikes and bruised knuckles? His past self still slumbered within his gut, rising up like bile whenever he recognised Hirutani's methods in the news, whenever he saw their tag under a bridge. Sometimes he felt like it'd only be a matter of time before they cornered him again, stronger and much more sadistic than the last time. You didn't leave a gang.

But he couldn't let anyone know, so he smiled and laughed easily, and tried not to get caught out in the bad neighbourhoods late at night. Joey squinted against the cold air, eyes stinging ever so slightly. He felt strangely safe here. Sure, he'd be no better than the scum on the shoes of some of the pricks who made their lives in these skyscrapers, but the worst they could do would be to ignore him. Let him move along quickly before they stepped forward and made their grand designs on the future of the planet. And as he glanced up at the dark silhouettes hunched over in the windows of offices and desk cubicles, not a ream of tinsel or sprig of mistletoe in sight, Joey felt... a little sorry for them, really. 

He tucked his chin into his jacket, watching the dogs ahead of him. The German Shepherd, Jessie, was the more docile of the two with intelligent dark eyes, and a certain elegance and majesty in the way her strong legs padded gracefully through the snow, sleek white fur glinting under the orange streetlamps. The Golden Labrador was another matter. Bounding left to right, tail wagging in a blur, tongue lolling in a permanent grin, panting clouds of hot breath... it took all of Joey's strength sometimes to keep her from leaping into the road. Her name was Sandy, and she was constantly nosing up to Jessie with bright eyes to try and entice her into playing. Jessie took it graciously, almost seeming to look fondly down her long nose at the more excitable dog, as Joey liked to think. His palm stung a little from the strain of the leads, but he paid it no attention. The tip of his nose was cold, and he was only getting eight dollars for each dog with the hour walk, and he had another lonely Christmas to look forward to when he got home, and then school in another week... but in that moment, he was okay. 

He found himself passing by KaibaCorp, and thought about the last time he'd been inside, months ago, to accept the offer of that game demo (which had sold out the week it was released, naturally; and maxed profits, as predicted). Yanking gently on the dogs' leads to slow down, he paused by the main doors and tilted his head back to peer up to the highest levels of the building. Kaiba's office was right at the top somewhere, as he remembered. When he'd got there to pick up the demo, the secretary had said Kaiba was in a meeting or something, and he'd only be five minutes. Joey had sat in the reception area staring at his sneakers, uncomfortable in the atmosphere which made him feel like a kid sent to the Principal's office. He'd been expecting someone to just bring him the demo, but he'd actually been sent up to the top floors with some dude in a suit and directed to Kaiba's office. Which had been weird. They'd been on equal ground at school just a couple hours before, and now he was looking at the guy across a desk.

He'd been cool though. Handed him a feedback form, given him a personal ID to access the game files, asked him if he'd ever consider becoming a full time beta-tester for KC, threatened his life if he lost the demo... Joey never really could tell if Kaiba was joking with stuff like that. 'Joking' didn't seem a very Kaiba-like action. The closest he ever got was light-hearted sarcasm.

As he was squinting up to the top floors of the KC building, Joey didn't notice the limousine pulling up by the pavement behind him until he saw Mokuba Kaiba completely bypass him and go straight for the dogs. Sandy immediately went wild, jumping at the kid and making all attempts to lick his face - which had definitely grown up a little, now Joey thought about it. How old would the boy be now? But if Mokuba was here, then his brother wouldn't be too far behind-

'Wheeler,' intoned a familiar voice behind him. Ever since Joey had picked him up on it at the beginning of the year, Kaiba always greeted him by declaring his last name with a sly smirk. Joey looked over his shoulder to see the guy all buttoned up and shutting the door of a black limo before approaching them.

'Are these your dogs?', asked Mokuba, now ruffling a disgruntled Jessie's fur.

'What? Ah no, I just walk 'em. Dat one's Jessie and the other one's Sandy. Don't mind her, she's just excited 'cause it's Christmas an' all. How ya doing, kid? You've gotten taller.'

Mokuba raised his head and beamed at him, allowing Joey to see the beginnings of teenage acne on his face. His cheeks had thinned out a little, and his eyebrows had become more defined, and Joey was struck by the intensity of eye contact he usually only saw from one other person.

Joey peeked at Kaiba, who was stood to the left of him, watching Mokuba with the dogs, indifferent and unmoved as usual. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Joey shifted to his other foot. He drew breath to say something – anything – else, but before he could, Kaiba dropped into a crouch and began smoothing Jessie's white fur. 

The sight of the guy willingly positioning himself so lowly was body language of a kind Joey had never seen, never mind seeing long, gloved fingers acting so kindly, tenderly. Jessie turned her head and took in this newcomer with her dark eyes, letting out a small whine. Immediately, the other dog jumped over and began gently chewing on Kaiba's coat cuff for attention, and instead of withdrawing in repulsion as Joey would have expected, he could have sworn that a ghost of a smile passed across Kaiba's lips.

Then as if Joey had imagined it, Kaiba was on his feet again with that particular glint in his eye. 'Dog walking seems rather appropriate for you, Mutt. Might I ask who is walking whom?'

Joey laughed sarcastically, folding his arms. 'Ya know, I would've expected a cold workaholic like you to be locked up in that office all Christmas. I'd be surprised if 'Bah Humbug!' isn't written across the door in tinsel.'

Joey vaguely noticed Mokuba cast a worrying glance towards his brother and wondered if he'd crossed a line, but then Kaiba replied calmly, 'Actually, we were just heading home when Mokuba wanted to quickly see your dogs. The twenty-fifth of December is the one day a year that my company ceases all non-autonomous function, because someone-' he gave Mokuba the side eye '-thinks it's 'unfair' for me to work on Christmas day.'

Joey frowned. 'Can't you trust it all to someone else for just one day?'

Kaiba gave him a look of clear disbelief, and Joey gleefully took a mental snapshot. He wished he'd had a real camera.

An icy breeze rolled by and Joey started, suddenly remembering he wasn't being paid to stand around and talk to tall dark CEO's. 'Well, I gotta go. Have a nice Christmas, you guys.'

'You too. Merry Christmas,' returned Kaiba, a little stiffly. 

Mokuba stood and brushed off his knees, saying absently, 'Not that we do much; just sit around and watch TV, and you usually go to your room after dinner anyway, Set-'

'Come on, Mokuba.' 

Kaiba stalked back towards the limo, coat fluttering in the wind, and Mokuba gave Joey a smile before following. Joey sighed, gathered up the leads again and began walking. There'd only be time now for the dogs to have fifteen minutes free run in the park. But at least now as he watched them frolic in the snow together, he'd be able to entertain himself with the strangely amusing notion of the great Seto Kaiba curled up watching _It's a Wonderful Life_.

As usual, Yugi invited him over for the 26th, and Joey had a great time pretending to refuse Christmas dinner leftovers and letting Yugi beat him in every new game he'd gotten. The lil punk knew him better than to ask how Joey's own Christmas had gone. For that, Joey was grateful. It was nice not having the stress of lying, for once.

Early morning on the first day of the new year, Joey ran the bathroom tap for ten minutes before realising that the water wasn't going to heat up. He tiptoed into the living room and touched the radiator there: stone cold. The window had a thin pattern of ice on the inside, just starting to melt and drip onto the worn, stained carpet. A shiver overtook him and Joey fought back the urge to scream his frustrations. With clenched fists he snuck back to his room and tugged on another layer of clothes, then resigned himself to a day of arguing with the gas company and listening to patronising hold music. He knew he'd paid the bill in advance. He'd skipped buying lunch a couple days a week in order to do so. He fumed silently for most of the day, phone pressed to his ear and hoping his free minutes wouldn't run out. In the afternoon, he heard the grunting and staggering footfalls of the other occupant of the flat, and braced himself against the hoarse yell of _'Boy!_ '.

His Dad was still hungover from New Years Eve the night before, but Joey managed to pacify him fairly easily. They paid directly to the gas company, not the landlord. When he got back to school, he'd have to use their supplies to fax the gas company proof he'd paid the bill. But for the next few days, it was going to be a little bit cold. 

When he finally escaped back to his room and locked the door, Joey collapsed onto his bed and wriggled deep under the covers. He heard the front door slam – his father had decided to force himself upon a 'friend' until things got sorted out. Joey's phone lit up: a text from Téa. _'Happy 1st Jan!'_ it read. _'Don't forget The Nutcracker ballet this weekend!'_

Stifling in stale air, Joey pulled the bedcovers from over his head and inhaled a lungful of chilly oxygen. He took a moment to watch his breath float away like a small cloud, feeling the cold air sting the burning skin where his father had just clipped him round the ear. He texted Téa with numb fingers: _'Sure! :) Looking forward to it'._

Luckily, he knew a place that gave free refills and didn't ask questions and was – most importantly - warm. He was friendly with the owner, and Joey spent most of the rest of that week sitting in a corner booth with torn leather seats, drinking greasy coffee and staring out of a greasy window. Although he still had his dog walking duties, he finished up his Christmas homework in just two days. It was kinda nice to just sit and do nothing, feet resting on the hot pipe and with the owner of the place sliding him a bowl of fries every now and again, on the house. In return, Joey offered to clean the windows. It turned out to be a good channel for his anger, and he left them gleaming in the sun reflecting off the snow.

At last Sunday evening came around, which was the day he and Yug' had bought tickets for Téa's thing. Joey stood in front of the bathroom mirror at home, tucking his shirt into a pair of thrift shop slacks he barely ever wore. He had a suit jacket too – mismatched, but you couldn't tell unless you looked closely. He peered at himself and had a quick shave, and hoped it would be too dark to fully see how tired his eyes looked. 

The gig was across the city at a charity venue, so Joey left with plenty of time, cutting through the business district just as it was busy with people leaving their offices. He heard a couple of snickers and snide remarks about his heavy-duty work boots and bomber jacket and he flipped them off with his hands in his pockets. What the fuck did they know? The snow was still lying heavy in the streets- this was his only warm jacket- just because he wasn't looking like a model out of fucking Forbes magazine or whatever-

'Wheeler?'

_Fuck._

Joey stomped to a halt, not wanting Mr Billionaire to see him looking so pathetically unkempt. He swallowed his brewing frustrations back down again and forced himself to make eye contact. 'Kaiba.'

A few seconds of the wind whistling in his ears and undoing all the attempts Joey had made to tame his hair, then-

'You look exhausted.'

Joey smiled sardonically. 'Thanks. Problems with the gas company at home. Now I gotta thing to go to, so if you'll excuse me...'

Kaiba's gaze flickered up and down, taking him in. 'What kind of thing?'

'A ballet thing.'

Kaiba's gloved hand reached back and re-opened the door to the KC skyscraper. 'Come in for a minute.'

Gritting his teeth, Joey glared at the other but he was no match for the look of unbudging determination Kaiba was directing at him, so he followed the guy into the building. Without speaking or looking behind him, Kaiba stalked off through another door and down a corridor, and Joey supposed he was expected to follow. It was delightfully warm inside and well lit, and although losing him for a few minutes in the maze of hallways, he eventually caught up to the other apparently rummaging inside a broom cupboard, briefcase by his feet.

'Dude, what-'

With a dramatic flourish, Kaiba pulled out a decadently woollen, dark gray coat on a hanger, and Joey realised they were standing in front of a coat closet. Kaiba held the garment out to him. 'This will look better and feel warmer.'

'Who died and made you the king of fashion?'

'I always have to look the part.'

Joey frowned. He didn't take handouts, especially not from Kaiba. He opened his mouth to argue. 'Look, this really isn't necessary-'

The coat was shoved into his chest, and he had no choice but to grab it before it fell. Kaiba leaned against the wall with one shoulder and folded his arms, watching expectantly. His expression was as cold as ever, and Joey remembered that the guy wasn't exactly the altruistic type. The coffees were one thing, and this another. Not for the first time, that niggle of doubt crept up in him and made him wonder when and if Kaiba was going to cash in these favours for his own gain.

'You can give it back tomorrow, at school.'

Joey sighed, his glare fading. Good thing he left in plenty of time earlier that evening. He reluctantly unzipped his own jacket, which he placed into the other's waiting hand and watched it get hung up amongst the others in the closet. It was an odd sight: the row of undoubtedly Kaiba-esque trench coats, elegant and flamboyant with their buckles and buttons- and his own worn leather bomber with the patch on one sleeve. The contrast was apparent, but also kinda harmonious, and it made Joey smirk into the collar as he straightened Kaiba's coat on his own shoulders.

He did jazz hands. 'Ta-dah.'

Kaiba stepped forward and tugged the lapels further into place, then after a split second of hesitation, reached up to unknot Joey's tie. Joey stepped backwards a little, but Kaiba only moved with him. 'Hey! It took me ages to tie that damn thing!'

Pale fingers moved deftly to reknot the tie, though Joey's attention slipped from them as he realised just how close their faces were – and they weren't even caught in a punch-up. Kaiba's eyes were downcast, concentrating, a slight frown causing an indentation between his eyebrows. His eyelashes were brown, the exact same colour as his fringe. He had a single, tiny freckle on the side of his nose.

Later, as they sat in the dark watching Téa soar around the stage with the help of her ballet partner, Joey absent-mindedly smoothed his tie down his chest. After five days of low-lying anger and lying awake shivering at night, he suddenly realised how much more soothed he felt. He was almost looking forward to school the next day, despite the inevitability of more gas company drama. He glanced at Yugi sitting beside him, looking as sharp as his hair in what looked like the suit he'd worn to last year's Spring dance. The lil punk's face was lit up as he watched the stage – though not with the blushing embarrassment Joey remembered, just admiration and pride.

He and Yugi hovered by the stage door after the performance, brimming with excitement and praising each dancer who walked past them. Téa was one of the last, naturally, though she leaped into Yugi's waiting arms and kissed his cheek before doing the same to Joey. The three of them caught the late bus home together, laughing. 

Joey was sat between them, and Téa elbowed him in the ribs. 'You look good,' she said, plucking at his coat sleeve. 'This is super nice. You actually look like a man for once.'

Joey raised an eyebrow and elbowed her back. 'I am a grown-ass man, thank you very much Miss Nutcracker Queen. But yeah. It's uh-' He coughed. 'I sorta ran into Kaiba on the way here and he lent me it, so I kinda had to wear it.'

A slow smile spread across Téa's face, and Joey didn't miss the way she and Yugi shared a glance. 'Oh really?' she said, grinning. 'And when will we be getting the wedding invitations?'

Yugi snorted. 'Yeah, Joey, you gotta make me Best Man. Tristan would only lose the rings, let's face it.'

Téa clapped her hands, barely able to contain her giggling, and burst out, 'Do you think he'd make you wear a _blue eyes white wedding dress?_ '

She and Yugi dissolved into manic laughter. Joey shoved his hands into the coat's pockets and looked from one to the other in disbelief. He leaned back into his seat, shaking his head. 'I'm not even gonna acknowledge this insanity, you guys. Ya both gone mad.'

When Joey got home to the thankfully still empty flat, he hung up the coat with immense care on the back of his door and fell asleep feeling warmer than he had the night before.

To his surprise, he was able to sort out the business with the gas company during his lunch break the next day at school. Attempting to not let his annoyance show in his words, Joey first emailed to tell them to expect a copy of his bank transactions as evidence, but immediately got one back saying they'd found his records and could see that he had paid in advance after all. And not only that, but they'd be offering him a cheaper rate for the next two quarters. Joey squinted in disbelief at the screen, suspecting a joke. But when he received additional confirmation in the mail a few days later, he simply chalked it up to good customer service. He decided not to let his dad know about it – he'd save the extra money himself. God knows he might entirely depend on his savings after school let out for the summer if he didn't find another job soon. Joey had tried back at the greasy spoon, offering to wash up more than windows, but the owner had declined. He'd left with a free hotdog though, so it wasn't all bad.

Their teachers began driving them harder to learn the material for the Spring semester. They often moved at a ridiculous rate, meaning that Joey started once again making a habit of staying behind after school for a couple of hours in the library every day. He was not going back to Mr Jameson's Math study class and be submitted to the torture of repetitive drilling of equations and formulae. Honestly, he'd rather face Zorc.

For AmLit, their presentations on their chosen books counted 30% of their grade. It wasn't much, but Joey wanted to max his marks in any way he could, so he'd spent about a week putting his piece together. He'd chosen Catcher in the Rye, because he vaguely remembered it as one of those novels that was on every 'books to read before you die' lists out there. Quite frankly, he wanted to know what all the fuss was about. He didn't quite get into it for a few chapters – but by the end, he knew. When he stood at the front of class, the rows of uninterested faces discouraged him a little, but a cough from their bossy teacher spurred him into talking about the alienation and discontentment that Holden feels in his teenage years, how he feels that his peers are moving onwards but he is falling behind in their dust. Joey found himself barely needing to look at his notes as a voice he didn't recognise as his explained the urge the man character feels to prove his worth, to his sister and his peers as well as himself. Joey didn't even squirm as he spoke about Holden's dissatisfaction and sexual conflict, his fear of his abnormal desires. 

When he finished his ten minutes, the faces of his classmates had glazed over into even deeper disinterest, but he received a warm smile and a 'well done' from the teacher. He was secretly pleased but shrugged it off and made his way back to his seat, ignoring Kaiba's steady gaze. He placed his well-thumbed book and notes onto his desk and saw that his hands were trembling. 

When class ended, so did the school day, and the entire class rushed for the door, but Joey couldn't get away before Kaiba spoke to him. 'That was surprising, Mutt.'

'Ha ha.' Joey gave a sarcastic laugh, shoving his pens into his backpack and bracing himself for further sarcasm, a few dog jokes. When there came none, he fastened the zip and looked Kaiba full in the face. He was startled to see that the guy actually looked rather... impressed.

'I'm serious, Wheeler. You're an entertaining public speaker.'

'Uh huh. Looked like half the class was fallin' asleep on me.'

Kaiba's expression turned deadpan as they began to leave the room together. 'They're idiots and fools barely worth the time of day. They must have been deaf to not have paid attention to you.'

'Is it possible for you to give a compliment that's not an insult, rich boy?'

They'd made it out into the near-empty corridor, which echoed with the promise of the weekend. Joey paused, watching Kaiba wind a dark blue scarf around his pale neck, standing tall, emanating confidence and self assurance even in a mere high school.

The intense blue gaze never left his. 'I think that your novel is an overrated, sentimental, self-pitying waste of the publishing industry. Yet, you kept my attention throughout your talk. That's not something many people can claim to have done.'

Joey's eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a grin twitch at the corner of his mouth. 'Doth mine ears deceive me, moneybags?'

Kaiba gave him an exasperated look, picked up his briefcase and kept walking. Joey trotted to keep up to him. Why did the guy always have to powerwalk?

'Public speaking is a rare skill, and one I personally value very highly in my employees,' continued Kaiba. 'Perhaps you should look into it as a career. The companies uptown are always hiring for their PR departments.'

Joey was only half concentrating on what the guy was saying. The other half was marvelling that Kaiba had never before gone so long without sarcasm or an insult. Truly an event for the records. He barely noticed when they parted ways and he trudged home in a dream. Maybe there was something he was good at, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another pupship song rec wahey: Underground by Adam Lambert
> 
> I do apologise for the delay in updating. Life has been kinda shitty in many ways.


	5. Chapter 5

The explosive roar of a motorbike engine just outside his window caught Joey by surprise and made him stumble as he tugged on his trousers. He fell like dead weight to the thin carpet, stubbing his toe in the process. He'd already overslept and would probably get another late penalty, so why this? Cursing, he got to his feet and hobbled to the window, zipping up his fly as if it had done him a personal wrong. Squinting through the smudges on the glass, he glimpsed a familiar bike and a familiar over-styled brown quiff by the roadside.

Joey grinned, and threw on the rest of his clothes before launching himself down the cold stairwell and outside. 'Thought you said you weren't allowed to ride it?'

Tristan laughed, the glee clear on his face. 'I know! But... I don't know, man. Apparently the guy whose car I dented just let it go a couple days ago? Just dropped it- just like that!'

'Dude, that's awesome!'

As Joey approached, Tristan handed over his spare helmet and laughed again. 'Yeah! I mean, I'm not complaining, but I think- no, never mind. Come on, get on.'

'What? Whaddya think?' Joey frowned at him, pushing back his fringe so he could fit the helmet on. 'I mean, maybe the guy dropped it so he could get a better claim against you or somethin'...'

'Pshhh. No, I don't think so.' Tristan's voice was muffled behind his own helmet now. 'Don't worry about it. I mean... I had to sign some legal stuff to say that I was also letting it go, and one of the guys who brought them over looked like one of Kaiba's goons... But it's probably nothing. They all look the same anyway- creeps me the fuck out.'

Swinging his leg over the seat, Tristan revved the engine and shouted to be heard over it. 'Get _on_ , or this is the last time I drag your late ass to school.'

'Hey!' Joey gave the top of Tristan's helmet a firm whack with his palm and grinned at the V sign he got in response. He climbed onto the seat behind him and linked his arms around Tristan's chest, holding his own wrist in a solid grip. Although he left a reasonable gap between their bodies, Joey had long since learned to get over his awkwardness when riding the back seat. The third time he'd gone flying off the back, he'd ended up with a dislocated shoulder. It didn't bother him so much personally to be this close – he'd known Tristan since middle school, for heaven's sake, and they'd been through a lotta shit together. And Joey figured that if anyone dared to say anything about two guys riding the same bike, they could get up nice and close with his fist.

The air had become milder in the past couple of weeks, and Joey was eager for Spring to bloom. To discard the grey chill clinging to his bones like a shroud and let the sun breathe new life into him again. He needed it, badly.

Just a few days ago, he'd been dismissed from his dog-walking rounds – they could do just fine without him now, thank you dear, you've been a huge help but we can manage ourselves from now on. Joey accepted their simpering smiles and the doors closed in his face, then turned to face their quaint little gardens with a black scowl. He wasn't a fool. He bore responsibility for the incident of course, but he also had to side with the German Shepherd. Jessie was a proud dog, with dark, intelligent eyes which observed all who approached her. If you got in too close and insulted her pride, she responded accordingly. In all honesty, if some dribbling little tyke had tried to stick their fingers up Joey's nose, he would have probably snapped at them too. The mother had come flapping over to the sight of Jessie's bared teeth and her whimpering yet perfectly unharmed child, and Joey had known it was all over before it even began.

With the savings that would come through from the reduced rate gas payments, Joey knew he technically didn't desperately need to find another job – and that thought was enough to demotivate him entirely. Besides, he needed to study in order to get a _real_ job, and that occupied most of his evenings. Right up until the minute they kicked him out, Joey would hunch up in the school library and wear out his eyes until the textbook dissolved into a puddle on the desk, and he joined it. The caretaker had found him a couple of times asleep and drooling, the imprint of the cheap wood grain in his cheek. And he would pack up and head home, dodge his father, fall asleep fully clothed and wake up feeling frozen to the core - even though the flat was now warm. On his walks to school, he watched as the delicate early Spring flowers began to poke through the paving slabs. Once or twice, the bitterness rose in him and he urged to crush their slim white petals between the rubber grooves on the underside of his sneakers. But at the moment of spite, he found he barely had the energy.

His birthday emerged shining like a beacon in the mindless fog of January, as it always did. He barely crossed one foot into the school yard before being pounced upon by Tristan and Yugi and their relentless birthday noogies, and though he could have beaten both of them off, Joey knew from past experience it was easier to submit to his fate. Yet he had to draw the line somewhere, and when he saw Duke advancing towards him with a gleam in his eye, holding an oversized _'I'm 5 today!'_ button badge, Joey felt no remorse for the well-placed kick that momentarily winded his friend. However, he did consent to wearing a length of foil birthday sash tied around his head like a bandanna (mainly as the tight knot was intertwined with a good chunk of his fringe, and Joey suspected he'd need scissors to remove it once he got home).

He'd not made plans to celebrate, but once Yugi had suggested spending the next day, Saturday, at Kaibaland, Joey found himself hard-pressed to decline. At Christmas, Kaiba's gift to each of them had been a pass for a year's free entry, although Joey hadn't used his yet. Yug' had been there at least twice a week since the start of the year, of course – often on a summons from Kaiba himself, determined to beat the Game King on whatever new console he'd had developed. Joey had expressed disbelief at this, not wanting to believe in the continuance of Kaiba's obsession, but Yugi had laughed merrily as they worked together taking stock in the back room of the game shop.

'Don't worry, he only rages for about ten minutes after I beat him, these days,' Yugi had grinned. 'Okay, that's... eight for the Mahjong. Joey. _Joey._ '

Having been merely tapping the end of the pen against his lips, Joey jerked back to reality and scribbled the digit on his pad, remarking mildly, 'Well I guess he's always gonna wanna best ya, ain't he?'

With a reassuring touch to his voice, Yugi had asserted, 'Yep! I think it gives him something to do, mainly. Must be boring sometimes, having it all.'

Joey gave a non-committal grunt.

Yugi firmly continued, opening the flaps of the next box. 'Grandpa always says it's lonely at the top. Don't tell him I said this because there's a good chance you'd never see me again, but... sometimes I think Kaiba just wants a friend. That's why he hangs around with us.'

Joey snorted. 'You're jokin', right? Mr Ice? He barely even talks to any of us.'

'He talks to you.' Yugi threw him a pointed look, his violet eyes filled with the wisdom and clarity of someone far beyond his years, and Joey had to avert his gaze.

Joey didn't see Kaiba in his American Literature class that Friday on the 25th, which on one hand he was glad for because there would have undoubtedly been a few low-voiced comments made about his birthday headgear. Despite his demonstrations towards their impassive teacher about how special the day was, Joey was subjected to four more boring presentations on books he didn't care about. The unpracticed, unprofessional voices of his fellow classmates bored into his skull like a drill, and he longed for the opportunity to abuse his role of power and escape the monotony just as Kaiba had done. At least when the guy was here, Joey derived some entertainment from watching his fingers tapping on his keyboard, the little quirks of his eyebrow and the curl of his lip in response to some of the less informed statements made by their classmates; and sometimes even his gaze flicking across to catch Joey's eye and then back again, as if they were sharing a private joke.

Like hell Joey was going to study on his birthday, but he did need to return a textbook he'd dug up from the bottom of his locker earlier that week before the return date was passed over the weekend. After class, he sprinted through the corridors to catch the librarian before she left. Her name was Rose: she was cute and wore old-fashioned round glasses, and was always sweet to him, and Joey often made a habit of dropping in on Tuesday and Friday afternoons just for a little chat.

He caught her just as she was about to shut down the system. He apologised profusely, grinning softly in that way he knew made her melt. As she scanned the book's barcode, Joey thought about how he was going to be heading home to a lonely room and leftover birthday cake that Téa had pressed onto him. He briefly considered asking Rose to spend the evening with him, and perhaps the night, too. She'd say yes, probably – he knew she liked him from the blushes and the stammering – but it didn't feel... right. She was too soft for his taste, too agreeable. He thought back to Mai and her inner fire, her bold attitude. She'd never been afraid to say exactly what she thought of him straight to his face. Joey smiled to himself as he reminisced. She'd been one explosive gal.

'All done!'

'Aw, thanks missy. You just saved my ass from payin'- ooh, about three dollars in late fees.'

She giggled as she shut down the computer and shouldered on her jacket. 'Doing anything this weekend, Joey?'

'Well as it happens, it's my grand day today.' Joey motioned to the sash around his forehead, slightly tattered now.

'Oh! Happy birthday!- oh _shoot_ , that reminds me, I'm so sorry-'

Joey frowned, watching her rush back to the front desk and rummage in the cupboard beside it. 'Wassup?'

'Someone dropped this off for you the other day, I almost forgot-' She emerged, pink in the cheeks and holding out a book-sized parcel to him, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a white ribbon. There was no tag. Joey took it from her hand cautiously, and ran his fingers across the smooth silk ribbon. He'd got a present from each of his friends, so why- unless-

The brown paper ripped easily enough, and Joey was soon holding a copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_ , second hand but in good condition. The edition he'd been using for class had belonged to school, and he'd had to return it days ago. This copy was hard-backed and fabric bound, black with simple, gold lettering on the cover and spine. He opened to the first page, and the girl peeking over his shoulder gasped audibly-

_'It's signed!'_

Joey closed the book with a snap. 'Who gave this to you?' he asked, trying to keep his voice free and easy.

'Um... t-they told me not to tell you.'

'Uh-huh. I bet they did,' said Joey flatly, before carefully sliding the book into his bag with a grin he didn't care about suppressing. The walk home was peaceful, and he detoured by the park. It was a mild evening, so he sat cross-legged on a mossy bench and read for a while, and thought for a little while longer, and only left once the sun had begun to set and the sky was flooded pink.

The next day, the usual squad got together and Joey felt the eyes of the Kaibaland security giving them long stares through a dozen pairs of sunglasses. His initial instinct was to glare back, but he forced himself to remind impassive. Although some of the attractions were closed off for the winter months, the sky was a clear stretch of sunlit blue and it seemed half the city had flocked to the park. Whilst standing in line to get their hands stamped, Joey glanced down at Yugi, who was joking around with Tristan. With his hood pulled up and blonde bangs pinned back, he was almost unrecognisable – which, thought Joey as he stood waist high in eager middle- and high-schoolers, was probably the point. Not for the first time, it struck him to appreciate just how much money Kaiba pulled in on a daily basis. It felt like a punch to the gut. Frivolous and spontaneous spending meant very little to the rich, as Joey had been taught: to them, it was simply another crank to set the cogs of their plans in motion. A hand grasped his roughly to press a circular stamp to it, and he was ushered through to the main entrance area. Joey leaned against a wall to wait for his friends, and he could smell milky coffee and strong whisky and sweet gingerbread, and he looked down at the inked KC on the back of his hand, and felt very foolish.

He shivered. It was cool standing in the shadow of a Blue Eyes statue, so he moved back into the sunshine just as Téa rejoined him. The glint of the sun reflected off the shiny metal armour of the statue, and Joey was forced to frown. 'Hey Téa, remember Death-T?'

Perhaps she mistook his squinting for bitterness, though she was usually quite adept at reading his emotions, because she said, 'That was years ago, come on.'

Joey allowed himself to be tugged along to the others, and cracked jokes and ate fast food and completely slaughtered Tristan at the old-school shooting games, and came third in their own spur-of-the-moment DDR tournament (Téa won, naturally; and Yugi had always been fast on his feet). Late afternoon, just before they left the park, he and Ryou sat on a wall outside the gift shop as the others browsed inside. Together, they watched the sun droop back into the Earth. Joey had never had much in common with Ryou, though he'd always appreciated his willingness for mute conversation. The guy rarely spoke without purpose. So when Ryou asked if he was doing okay, Joey was so taken aback that it took a couple of seconds for the instinctive 'Sure I am!' to tumble out of his mouth.

Upon seeing a wordless scepticism in those big brown eyes, Joey continued. 'I bet we'll all feel a helluva lot better walkin' out of that last exam though, huh?'

'You bet, Joey.'

Some nights later, Joey was making tracks through the late night streets of the downtown area, eyes down and watching the neon lights reflected in the rippling puddles underfoot. His socks were already starting to feel soaked around the edges. He'd been so hell-bent on getting out of the flat that he'd pulled on the closest things: one being his prized sneakers, the pair that had almost come with a free scorpion. The knife hole in the toe wasn't doing him any favours in the rain, and the knowledge that he was probably ruining them with every step wasn't helping to quell the frustration boiling in his blood. However, the murderous look on his face was a small mercy this early in the morning. It was no guarantee, but Joey had learned early on that the more you looked like a criminal, the less likely you'd be accosted into a prickly situation. So he kept his hand on the flick-knife in his pocket, and didn't think about how unrecognisably polished he'd looked wrapped up in a dark wool coat that smelled of coffee beans and expensive cologne.

His now squelching feet took him to the all night diner he'd last visited at Christmas. He had no money on him, but he was hoping on them letting him shelter from the rain, if only for ten minutes. After walking through the dark for an hour, Joey needed some light to be shed on his thorny, tangled thoughts, and the pure white, sterile LED's of the diner seemed like the perfect order for his chaos.

Through the rain-slashed windows, Joey noticed two very familiar heads of hair sat across from each other in a window booth. One was as wild and soft as a dandelion head; the other was bleached and dip dyed and pulled into a ponytail. Upon the table, beside two half drunk sodas, lay an open Snakes and Ladders board with two counters and a number of multi-sided dice. A scattered deck of half Duel Monsters, half playing cards teetered next to an unopened box of Connect Four, and fingers occasionally picked the top card from the deck to read, and moved their counters accordingly up and down the painted slopes. Joey couldn't hear what they were saying, obviously, but he ducked out of sight into the shadow of the building across the street to watch them. Ryou's mouth was moving more than he'd ever seen it, and Yugi's punky little ponytail bobbed as he nodded, eyes fixed on the cards in his hand.

Joey walked home feeling cooler than when he'd set out, so at least he'd achieved his primary aim. His focus had been realigned. The specific doubts and worries consuming him for the past month had been knocked out of the water, and he found comfort in the concern he felt for his friends. Although, he did suppose that being possessed by ancient spirits was probably a rare event, and surely decreased the number of people to whom you could truly relate. Honestly, Joey was relieved he'd not spotted an Ouija board amongst the other games.

His thoughts that night dwelt upon the ideas of loneliness and guilt - and perhaps a touch of jealousy over Yugi because they were like _brothers_ , but it apparently wasn't enough. But who was he kidding. He, a street kid with more luck than sense, could never have measured up to the Pharaoh in Yugi's eyes. Joey turned fitfully onto his side and punched his pillow.

The next AmLit class saw Kaiba stalk up to the front of the room, letting a steely gaze sweep over everyone in the room before folding his arms and proceeding to talk at length about his chosen novel. It was _American Psycho_ , and Joey had seen the movie, so he tore his attention away from the rubber band between his fingers and focussed on Kaiba instead. After a couple of weeks of not looking directly at him, Kaiba's skin seemed paler and smoother than ever, his posture controlled and powerful, his hair shining under the lights and demanding to be touched. Something like frustration roared in Joey's gut and he scowled.

He'd seen the movie at Tristan's one time and from what Joey remembered, he found it a little... disconcerting that Kaiba had chosen a story about a narcissistic, bored, violent businessman. But the smirk tugging at Kaiba's lips suggested that he was feeding off the shock factor, using their wariness to fuel his ego. Pacing slowly across the front of the room, he spoke as if his revelations could uproot reality itself, taking his time to enunciate and gracefully extend slender hands to emphasise his points. His voice and and movements were level. Only the glint in his eyes betrayed his excitement. He had no notes, of course, but still explained the underlying themes of consumerism and big-city social anonymity with such enticing clarity that it made Joey want to jump from his seat, grab a copy of the book and scour the pages for the details being described.

The results for his Christmas exams came through more favourably than Joey had expected, so he figured it was time to perhaps slack off the studying a little (as if he needed an excuse). He still stayed most evenings after school, but the following weekend he delighted in staying an extra four hours in bed, floating in and out of consciousness in a nest of warmth and listening to the incessant rain against his window. Around noon, he heard a female voice coming from inside the flat, and his eyes snapped open. He sat up too fast and made his way to the door with a spinning head, opening it just enough to peer through and catch sight of some unknown woman scurrying into the bathroom.

The next day she still hadn't left, and Joey was damned if he was going to be subjected to his Dad's new broad for however long she lasted. He took himself to the local library and blew a few dollars on printing fees, thanking his stars that they'd been forced to write resumes by the Careers Officer last year, and set off around town to present himself to anyone who would listen. He started at the mall, but he could only take so much dead-eyed disinterest. Kaiba's advice nudged the back of his mind but Joey batted it away, figuring that he'd be laughed out of the building if he dared show his face in any of the offices uptown. Stumped for ideas, he ended up meandering around the city like a stray until a miracle arrived in the form of a newspaper ad picked up at a convenience store. It seemed a long shot, but he set off for the address with determined optimism powering his walk. It was an independent hotel in the more touristy part of the city, the part that Joey usually avoided. He wore his brightest smile, was interviewed on the spot for the open assistant concierge position, and was told that they'd let him know the result.

In homeroom the next day, his friends seemed equally pleased when he told them, apart from Téa who questioned if he wasn't working himself too hard. Joey cracked a grin and reassured her that he was fine, and it was herself she should worry about. Téa had applied for a few different scholarships in the hope of being sponsored to go to New York after they graduated, and Joey had seen the stress building in her eyes since Christmas. He joked that she needed to let a load off otherwise the weight on her shoulders would only ruin her dancers posture, and she gave him a weary smile. So he offered a long hug instead, and she took it gratefully, and when she asked about how his Math studies were coming along, he didn't have the heart to tell her that his best practise test result so far that semester had been a D.

That evening, after two hours of rereading the same chapter over and over in panicked hope that it would eventually make sense, Joey wove his way through the library desks to leave and spotted a lanky figure sitting in a dark corner facing the room, the lower half of his face illuminated by the glow of a laptop, the vague glint of the silver rim of a coffee cup on the desk beside him. But Kaiba had always been an odd sort, so Joey continued on his way home without giving it much thought.

The following evening, Kaiba was sitting in Joey's usual spot, using his phone one handed. Two coffee cups stood on the desk in front of him: one disposable, with the usual swirly lettering; the other the mug that Joey had bought for him at Christmas. Wordlessly, Kaiba's eyes flicked up to Joey's stilled frame and motioned with his head that Joey should sit down.

Joey's nostrils flared and he grit his teeth, feeling irritated for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on. He thought about walking away, but he knew Kaiba wouldn't let him, so he dumped his bag on the table opposite and crashed down into the indicated chair with tightly crossed arms.

Joey slouched in his seat and refused to look anywhere but the desk in front of him, and a good ten minutes passed before Kaiba eventually put away his phone. With a controlled movement, a pale hand slid the disposable coffee cup a foot in Joey's direction. Though Joey had never been very good at containing himself, and this action was the last straw.

'When are ya thinkin' of demanding payment for all these, huh, rich boy?' he spat, heated and almost shaking in a frenzy of emotions. 'Because I ain't buyin' your 'random acts of kindness' bullshit.'

It was the first time in months that Joey had insulted Kaiba with any real malice behind it, and the force of it shocked him. Though he couldn't be blamed. Frustration, inadequacy, the certainty of failure and the fear of reciprocated feelings – and none of it had been helped by those steely blue eyes constantly pricking at his skin, pale, long-fingered hands invading his dreams. It was like Death-T all over again in the secrets and the unsolvable puzzles and clues. Why did it all have to be just another fuckin' game that Joey knew he could never win?

After his outburst, the library had returned to grim silence which lay static in the air around the two of them. Kaiba stood suddenly, dramatically, and leaned forward with his hands on the desk. His brows were lowered and his eyes blazed in cold fury, his lips drawn back slightly to bare his teeth, face pale as snow, and Joey felt the anger fizzle out of him as he was unwillingly intimidated. The whites of Kaiba's eyes were showing all the way around his irises in pure focussed rage, and when he spoke, his tongue was a knife.

'I appear to have miscalculated.'

Joey flinched. Somehow, the absence of dog insults or other cruelties made it much worse, because he could hear the disappointment in every word, and guilt crushed down upon him like an icy avalanche. Kaiba had now grabbed his coat and briefcase, and was walking away-

Joey grabbed his wrist, half rising from his seat. 'Shit, Kaiba, I'm sorry, I just- I'm just freaking out about Math because I can't do any of it for shit, and I know they're not callin' me back about that stupid job, a-and I'm just confused righ' now, and I took it out on you, and I'm so fuckin' sorry, dude, you didn't deserve that.' In a flash, it occurred to him that this was the first time he could ever remember genuinely apologising to the guy he'd once sworn as his enemy.

And Kaiba wrenched his wrist from Joey's shaking fingers, grabbed his reusable mug from the table and left without a word or a look. After a few minutes, Joey gathered his own things and headed home, drinking the cooled latte Kaiba had bought him in too-late appreciation. That night, lighting tore the clouds apart and threw threatening shadows into the worn down little room with the flaking paint and the Red Eyes Black Dragon bedsheets.

Both Yugi and Téa remarked on how tired he looked the next day, the latter in particular giving him a stare of firm concern, so Joey skipped his last period AmLit class to hunker down at the back of the library. The cute librarian, Rose, offered a quiet greeting as he passed her, and he managed a wan smile in response before hurrying on. Seated in a quiet corner, he wrapped his arms around his rucksack and buried his face into the fabric, smelling rubber and mud and paper, and that lingering smell of bologna from the sandwich he'd bought ages ago that had exploded all over the insides of his bag when he'd run home through the rain. Tiredness overtook him easily, although he thoughts remained a raving circular process. He'd never seen Kaiba spend as much attention on anyone who wasn't his brother. It was only natural that he, Joey, would feel sceptical. But knowing Kaiba, buying people's friendship was probably the only method he knew. And Joey had thrown it in his face, and Seto Kaiba famously never gave second chances, and Joey's hopes were now crushed- but he didn't even know what he'd been hoping for, anyway...

It seemed only moments later, but Joey was awoken by the unmistakable buzz of a phone vibrating upon a table. Lifting his weary head from his arms and feeling the ache sneak into his shoulders, Joey watched through bleary eyes as a hand reached out for the phone. Kaiba looked at it for a few seconds, then replaced it upon the desk. Joey rubbed his eyes and stared at the man sitting opposite, who silently closed his laptop and pushed it to the side, before taking up a Math textbook from the floor beside him and flipping through it. Once finding the right page, he set it on the table between them, right way up for Joey to read.

'We're starting with parameters. Get some paper out.'

Stunned, Joey did as instructed, and to his pleasant surprise, found that Kaiba was a fairly patient tutor. He thought it best not to argue, and predicted that it would be pointless to even try, so they continued in this manner for every evening of the next week. The coffees did not make a reappearance, and the atmosphere relaxed. Joey found himself easily able to slip back into his usual chatty manner.

'I got a C on my last in-class test, y'know,' he declared, writing down the numbers he'd need for the next question.

'Hm,' came the usual reply, blue eyes fixed upon the touch screen tablet clasped in a pale hand. 'Good.'

'Is that the only congrats I get?'

'Hurray,' said Kaiba flatly, still not looking up. 'Is that enough, or would you like me to get out the party hats?'

Joey grinned around the end of the pen he'd been absent-mindedly chewing on. 'You in a party hat is somethin' I'd pay to see.'

'Finish your work so I can go home,' said Kaiba with his typical air of dismissal, and Joey's smile lingered as he continued writing.

Once, in mid-March when the evenings were growing lighter and the girls' skirts were growing shorter, Kaiba uncharacteristically asked him an outright question.

'Do you know the girl who works in here?'

'Huh?' said Joey ineloquently, and only understood when he saw Kaiba's eyes flicker towards the front desk of the library, where Rose had been chatting to him earlier before she left with the school bell. 'Oh. Yeah, that's Rose. She's cute. She always chats with me, lets me off my late fees.'

He'd been expecting Kaiba to push the question further – maybe even hoping for it. Yet not another word was said until they were packing up together, an hour and a half later. Although a fair teacher, Kaiba worked him relentlessly and Joey was always glad to escape the drilling. He apparently saw no need for a break, and only began agreeing to five minutes off every half hour once Joey had argued the need for it.

Cramming papers into his bag in a rush to dispel Math from his mind for another night, Joey didn't hear Kaiba clearly the first time, and had to ask him to repeat himself.

After sending him an exasperated look, Kaiba picked up the textbook and closed the cover, moving to return it to the shelf a few metres away. 'Is Rose your girlfriend?'

Joey laughed. 'Pshhh, nah... she's nice and all, but no.'

Kaiba returned to their table with a controlled poker face, and fastened his briefcase.

'Nah, Tristan's the one with the cute girlfriend! He met her at a bike rally a week or so ago, and he never shuts up about her now, always rubbin' it in my face.' Joey hoisted his rucksack onto his back and folded his arms, leaning back against the table and facing the window. 'I don't really mind though. He's been sky-high ever since he got his bike all fixed up and nothin' to worry about.'

He gave a quick look to see if there was any response from Kaiba, who had silently joined his side and was looking out of the window as well. The evening sky was a dusky violet, and the streetlights were just starting to flicker on. The table edge was cutting into the back of his thighs, but Joey did not move. The fabric of Kaiba's trouser leg brushed against his own.

'Yeah... he- uh, he won't let anyone touch his bike, says it's bad karma or somethin-'

'Perhaps if you spent less time worrying about your friends like a mother hen and more time concentrating in class, you'd be halfway competent at Math,' said Kaiba, cutting across him.

Joey shoved his shoulder. 'Hey! It's my job to notice what my friends are getting up to! I don't like to see any of 'em sad.'

Kaiba turned his head slightly and looked down his nose at him. 'I know.'

Not particularly wanting to move, Joey stayed where he was, only moving to unfold his arms and place his hands on the table behind him, taking some of the weight off his legs. 'Kaiba... thanks- for doin' this. For helpin' me.'

He wasn't looking, but Joey heard Kaiba's quick exhale of breath that was almost a chuckle, and knew that he was smirking. 'Don't flatter yourself, Wheeler. Teaching you is like water torture.'

Quick as a flash, Joey deviously replied, 'Well then, I had no idea you were such a masochist, Kaiba.'

Next to him, Kaiba's shoulders tensed and he opened his mouth only to make a series of small stuttering noises in the back of his throat. Joey looked to him in amused surprise. _Shit. I've broken him._

To dispell the awkwardness, Joey stood up straight and clapped Kaiba on the shoulder, who was looking at the floor. 'Just kiddin',' he assured, a shit-eating grin still slapped across his face at the realisation of finding Kaiba's apparent weakness. 'I know your tastes are more... _draconic_.'

Instantly, Kaiba's head snapped upwards and Joey met with his full glare once more, deep with irritation and wounded pride. He jaw clenched, and Joey instinctively took half a step backwards, remembering the last time he'd stepped over the line. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, and a small bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck. Why had he even strayed into such strange territory? He'd never even seen Kaiba display signs of attraction towards any other person. This could be some untouchable topic, and Joey had barged in with wailing sirens, as usual- and it was just teasing on Joey's part- hell, he'd given Tristan much worse over the years, but this was ice cold CEO speculated virgin Seto Kaiba, whose dragons had once been his entire focus, his light- and Joey probably wouldn't have even said anything if Kaiba hadn't displayed such obvious envy towards the attention he gave to Rose and his other friends-

Kaiba grabbed his briefcase and began to walk away whilst Joey was still internally panicking, and it took a couple of seconds to realise he was gone. He raced through the library, running into chairs and taking a nasty knock to his hip, and caught up with the other just before the main entrance of the school. 'Kaiba!-'

Unexpectedly, Kaiba actually halted and turned to face him. He gave that same half-chuckle as earlier, his lip curling. 'You know, Joey, for someone who wastes so much time observing his peers, you seem to be at a complete loss with me.'

By the time Joey had figured out what that meant, Kaiba had gone and the door slammed shut in his wake. Joey detoured through town on the way home, replaying the memory in his mind and thinking. When he got home, the stars were out in a mystic path across a cool sky coloured with the last vestiges of winter darkness, but he still hadn't figured out if Kaiba had been joking or deadly serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wham bip bop bam --> pupship song rec #3 is Only You by Ellie Goulding  
> I got it from this playlist, which is excellent: playmoss (.) com/en/marionette/playlist/red-and-blue
> 
> Unfortunately, I have no choice but to go on hiatus until August. For more information, please see this post: a-gay-elephant-called-jonathan.tumblr (.) com/post/145613605592/more-bullet-points-r-rad-well-long-story


End file.
